of  tfce 


tHmbersittp  of  j©ort&  Carolina 


Cnbofejefe  bp  C&e  dialectic 

ana 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 
DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 
SOCIETIES 


HV71+3 

•N5 

B8 


OCT  | 


0  1975 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N^|j||||j|||^'"" 


10001815939 


17 


This  book  is  due  at  the  WALTER  R  DAVIS  LIRRARv 
the  last  date  stamped  under  "Date  Due ?  |  hofon  hold  i 
may  be  renewed  by  bringing  it  to  the  library. 


DATE 

DUE  RET. 

DATE 

DUE  RET. 

FEB  18 

DEC  0  7  \ 

FEB  0 ' 

7199b 

1995  4 

■   MAH 

si  7  3004 

Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


http://archive.org/details/dangerousclassesOObrac 


TIlE 


DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK, 

AND 

TWENTY  YEARS'  WORK  AMONG  THEM. 


BY 

CHARLES  LORING  BEACE, 

AUTHOR  OF 

* 1  HUNGARY  IN  1851,"  "HOME  LIFE  IN  GERMANY,"  "THE  RACES 
OF  THE  OLD  WORLD,"  ETC.,  ETC. 

"  Am61iorer  l'homme  par  la  terre  et  la  terre  par  rhomme." — Demetz. 


THIRD  EDITION— WITH  ADDENDA. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 
CHARLES  LOSING  BRACE, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


Wynkoop  &  Hallenbeck, 
Fine  Book  Printers. 


library,  Univ.  ef 
North  G&rrimm 


DEDICATION. 


To  the  many  co-laborers,  men  and  women,  who  have 
not  held  their  comfort  or  even  their  lives  dear  unto 
themselves,  but  have  striven,  through  many  years,  to 
teach  the  ignorant,  to  raise  up  the  depressed,  to  cheer  the 
despairing,  to  impart  a  higher  life  and  a  Christian  hope 
to  the  outcast  and  neglected  youth  of  this  city,  and  thus 
save  society  from  their  excesses,  this  simple  record  of 
common  labors,  and  this"  sketch  of  the  terrible  evils  sought 
to  be  cured,  is  respectfully  dedicated. 


rO 

O 


INTEODUOTIOK 


The  great  pioneer  in  the  United  States,  in  the  labors 
of  penal  Keform  and  the  prevention  of  crime, — Edward 
Livingston, — said  as  long  ago  as  1833,  in  his  famons 
"Introductory  Report  to  the  Code  of  Reform  and  Prison 
Discipline":  "As  prevention  in  the  diseases  of  the  body 
is  less  painful,  less  expensive,  and  more  efficacious  than 
the  most  skillful  cure,  so  in  the  moral  maladies  of  society, 
to  arrest  the  vicious  before  the  profligacy  assumes  the 
shape  of  crime;  to  take  away  from  the  poor  the  cause 
or  pretence  of  relieving  themselves  by  fraud  or  theft;  to 
reform  them  by  education  and  make  their  own  industry 
contribute  to  their  support,  although  difficult  and  ex- 
pensive, will  be  found  more  effectual  in  the  suppression 
of  offences  and  more  economical  than  the  best  organized 
system  of  punishment." — (p.  322.) 

My  great  object  in  the  present  work  is  to  prove  to 
society  the  practical  truth  of  Mr.  Livingston's  theoretical 
statement :  that  the  cheapest  and  most  efficacious  way  of 
dealing  with  the  "Dangerous  Classes"  of  large  cities,  is 


ii  INTRODUCTION. 

not  to  punish  them,  but  to  prevent  their  growth ;  to  so 
throw  the  influences  of  education  and  discipline  and  religion 
about  the  abandoned  and  destitute  youth  of  our  large 
towns  5  to  so  change  their  material  circumstances,  and 
draw  them  under  the  influence  of  the  moral  and  fortunate 
classes,  that  they  shall  grow  up  as  useful  producers  and 
members  of  society,  able  and  inclined  to  aid  it  in  its 
progress. 

In  the  view  of  this  book,  the  class  of  a  large  city  most 
dangerous  to  its  property,  its  morals  and  its  political  life, 
are  the  ignorant,  destitute,  untrained,  and  abandoned 
youth:  the  outcast  street-children  grown  up  to  be  voters, 
to  be  the  implements  of  demagogues,  the  u feeders"  of  the 
criminals,  and  the  sources  of  domestic  outbreaks  and 
violations  of  law. 

The  various  chapters  of  this  work  contain  a  detailed 
account  of  the  constituents  of  this  class  in  New  York,  and 
of  the  twenty  years'  labors  of  the  writer,  and  many  men 
and  women,  to  purify  and  elevate  it;  what  the  principles 
were  of  the  work,  what  its  fruits,  what  its  success. 

So  much  interest  at  home  and  abroad  has  been  mani- 
fested in  these  extended  charities,  and  so  many  inquiries 
are  received  continually  about  them,  that  it  seemed  at 
length  time  to  give  a  simple  record  of  them,  and  of  the 
evils  they  have  sought  to  cure. 


INTRODUCTION.  Hi 

If  the  narrative  shall  lead  the  citizens  of  other  large 
towns  to  inaugurate  comprehensive  and  organized  move- 
ments for  the  improvement  of  their  "  Dangerous  Classes," 
my  object  will  be  fully  attained. 

I  have  the  hope,  too,  that  these  little  stories  of  the  loi 
of  the  poor  in  cities,  and  the  incidents  related  of  their 
trials  and  temptations,  may  bring  the  two  ends  of  society 
nearer  together  in  human  sympathy. 

The  discussion  of  the  Causes  of  Juvenile  Crime  con- 
tained in  this  work  must  aid  others  who  would  found 
similar  reformatory  and  preventive  movements,  to  base 
them  on  principles  and  motives  which  should  reach  similar 
profound  and  threatening  evils. 

CHARLES  LORINGl  BRACE.  . 
19  East  4th  Street,  New  York. 

June  1,  1872. 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHRIST  IN  CHARITY  AND  REFORM,  AND  CONDITION  OF  NEGLECTED  CHILDREN 
BEFORE  CHRISTIANITY. 

Exposure  of  Children  in  Rome— Comments  by  Latin  Authors  upon  the  Prac- 
tice—Terence— Seneca— Suetonius— Rebukes  by  Early  Christian  Preachers 
— Quintilian— Tertullian— Lactantius— I'irst  "Children's  Asylum"  under 
Trajan— Charity  of  the  An tonines— Legislation  of  the  Christian  Emperors 
— Influence  of  the  Germanic  Races — Legislation  on  the  Exposure  of 
Children  —  First  Children's  Asylums  in  the  Christian  Era  — Brother 
Guy — Neglected  Children  the  only  Remains  of  Ancient  "Dangerous 
Classes  " — Change  Wrought  by  Christianity — Influence  of  Christianity  in 
Reform  ,  pp.  13-24 


,  CHAPTER  n. 

THE  PROLETAIRES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Not  so  Numerous  as  in  London,  but  more  Dangerous — Dens  of  Crime  and 
Fever-nests — Advantage  of  Breaking  them  up — The  Unrestrained  Vices 
of  this  Class — Their  Ignorance  and  Brutality — Dependence  on  Politicians 
— Gangs  of  Youthful  Criminals — Similar  Dangers  here  as  in  Paris — The 
Riots  of  1863— Numbers  of  the  Vagrant  Class — Composition  of  this  Dan- 
gerous Element  pp.  25-31 

CHAPTER  HI. 


CAUSES    OF  CRIME. 

Preventible  and  Non-preventible— Ignorance— Numbers  of  Illiterates  in  City 
Prisons  and  Reformatories — Orphanage — Statistics — Orphans  in  Mettrai 
— Emigration — Effect  in  Producing  Crime — Numbers  of  Prisoners  oi* 
Eoreign  Births  —  Figures  —  Hopeful  Features  —  Fewer  Paupers  Immi- 
grate— Want  of  Trade — Selfishness  of  Unions — Aversion  to  Steady  In- 
dustry pp.  32-38 

1 


11 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CAUSES  OP  CRIME— WEAKNESS  OF  MARRIAGE-TIE. 

Reasons  why  Second  Marriage  is  Productive  of  Crime  among  the  Poor — Force 
of  Public  Opinion  in  Preserving  Marriage-bond — Weakening  of  it  by 
Emigration — Fruits  of  Free  Love  among  the  Poor — Inheritance — Power 
of  Transmitted  Tendencies  in  Producing  Crime — Hopeful  Feature  in  New 
York^Few  Continued  Families  of  Paupers  and  Criminals — Action  of 
Natural  Selection  in  Favor  of  Virtue — Vicious  Organizations  Die  Out — 
Explanation  of  Extraordinary  Improvement  in  Children  under  Reformatory 
Influences — The  Immediate  Influences  of  Bad  Parents  Overcome  by  the 
Transmitted  Tendencies  of  Virtuous  Ancestors,  and  by  New  Circum- 
stances— The  Incessant  Change  of  our  People  Favorable  to  Virtue — Vil- 
lages more  Exposed  to  Criminal  Families  than  Cities — Causes  pp.  39-50 

CHAPTER  V. 

CAUSES  OF  CRIME— OVERCROWDING. 

Form  of  New  York — Its  Effect  on  Population — Bad  Government  Increases 
Rents — Rate  of  Population  to  the  Square  Mile  in  the  Eleventh  Ward — In  the 
Tenth,  Seventeenth,  and  other  Wards — In  London — G-reater  Overcrowding 
in  New  York — Instance  of  Overcrowding  in  the  First  Ward — Effect  on  the 
Criminal  Habits  of  Girls — Thp,  pens  of  Criminal  Ravs — Cellar  Population 
— Effect  of  Overcrowding  on  the  Death-rate — Upon  the  Crime  of  the  City — 
Remedies — Better  Means  of  Distributing  Population — Improved  Com- 
munications with  the  Country — Cheap  and  Honest  Government — Organized 
Movement  for  Transferring  Labor  to  the  Country — Remedy  in  Sanitary 
Legislation — Effect  of  British  Lodging-house  Acts — Cellar  Population  of 
Liverpool — The  Model  Lodging-houses — Great  Need  of  them  in  New 
York  pp.  51-63 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CAUSES   OF  CRIME — INTEMPERANCE. 

The  Power  of  Alcoholic  Stimulus  on  the  Laboring-man — Attraction  of  the 
Liquor-shop — Terrible  Effects  of  Drunkenness — Number  of  Criminals  in 
City  Prisons  Intemperate — Little  Drunkenness  among  Children — Great 
Effects  of  the  Total  Abstinence  Reform — Good  Influence  of  the  Irish 
Catholic  Clergy — Necessity  for  other  Remedies — Cultivation  of  Higher 
Tastes — Influence  of  the  Sydney  Palace  Gardens  in  England — Effects  of 
Parks  and  Pictures — Open- Air  Drinking  not  so  Dangerous — Museums, 
Parks,  Gardens,  and  Reading-rooms,  the  best  Temperance  Societies — Few 
Children  of  the  Industrial  Schools  become  Drunkards — Comparative  Good 
Effects  of  Light  Wiues— Liquor  Laws— Former  Sunday  Law  a  Happy 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


iii 


Medium — The  Habits  of  the  Germans  should  have  been  considered — 
Mistake  of  the  Reformers — Intemperance,  next  to  War,  the  Greatest 
Evil  of  Humanity— Other  Remedies  than  Total  Abstinence  must  be 
employed  pp.  64-73 

f.  CHAPTER  YH. 

ORGANIZATION  OF  A  REMEDY. 

Necessity  of  One  Organization  to  Deal  with  Youthful  Criminal  Classes — Error 
made  of  using  too  Technical  Religious  Methods — Error  of  Following  too 
much  European  Precedents — Asylums  not  so  much  Needed  in  America 
— Pioneer  Work  among  the  Dangerous  Classes  Twenty  Years  Ago — 
Captain  Matsell's  Report — Labors  of  the  Writer  in  the  Five  Points — Num- 
bers of  Homeless  Children  in  the  Streets — Sad  Sight  of  Child-Prisoners — 
"  The  Social  Evil " — Mr.  Pease's  Labors — The  Necessity  Felt  of  a  General 
Organization — Novel  Method  of  Reforming  Young  "Roughs" — Boys' 
Meetings  — The  Chaffing  of  Street-boys  —  Quick  Repartees  —  Kind  of 
Oratory  Necessary — The  Lads  Open  for  Earnest  Words — The  Meetings 
only  Pioneer  Work  —  Succeeded  by  more  Thorough  Influences  —  The 
Pounders  of  the  Different  Meetings   pp.  74-83 


CHAPTER  YLTI. 

A  NEW  ORGANIZATION. 

'Foundation  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society — Touching  Procession  of  Homeless 
Children  to  the  Office — The  Eeeling  at  its  Foundation — Its  Objects — To 
Found  Reading-rooms,  Industrial  Schools,  Lodging-houses,  and  Provide 
Homes  for  the  Homeless — Dens  of  Misery  and  Crime — Thieves'  Lodging- 
houses — "Rotten  Row  " — "Poverty  Lane  " — Haunts  of  the  Young  Wood- 
stealers — Hopes  of  the  New  Work — Workshops — Want  of  Success — Causes 
— Necessity  of  General  Education,  rather  than  Industrial,  for  Street-chil- 
dren  pp.  84-96 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HOMELESS  BOYS — THE  NEWSBOYS'  LODGING-HOUSE. 

Their  Relation  to  the  World,  like  that  of  the  Indians  to  Civilization— Life  of 
the  Street-boy — His  Lightheadedness — His  Moral  Code — His  Religion- 
Few  Addicted  to  Drinking — Their  Generosity — Policy-tickets — Choice  of 
Night  Resting-places — Necessity  to  treat  them  as  Independent  Dealers — 
First  Lodging-house  for  Newsboys  in  the  World— Mr.  Tracy— Plans  of 
the  Boys  for  a  Scrimmage — Their  Defeat — Remarks  about  their  Beds 
—Origin  of  the  Night-school— And  the  Sunday  Meeting— Surprise  at  the 
Golden  Rule — Belief  in  Miracles— Pathos  of  their  Songs— The  Savings'- 


iv 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


bank — Breaking-up  of  Gambling  and  Money-wasting — Mr.  and  Mrs. 
O'Connor — Their  Fitness  for  the  Work — Immense  Number  of  Lodgers — 
The  Influence  of  the  House — Payments  by  the  Lads— Description  of  Rooms 
— The  New  Building — Extracts  from  Journal — Statistics  pp.  97-113 


CHAPTER  X. 

STREET-GIRLS — THEIR  SUFFERINGS  AND  CRIMES. 

Hard  Lot  of  a  Girl- vagrant— Sexual  Vice — Dark  Questions — Girls'  Yices  More 
Degrading  than  the  Bdys' — Effect  on  her  Habits  and  Character — Great 
Difficulty  of  Reform — History  of  Prostitutes  not  Romantic — Their  Lives 
the  Emit  of  Neglect  in  Early  Childhood,  aud  of  Lazy  Habits — Their  Good 
Qualities — Remedies  for  the  Social  Evil — Sad  Incident  of  a  Young  Girl  in 
the  Tombs  pp.  114-122 

CHAPTER  XI. 

LEGAL  TREATMENT   OF  PROSTITUTES. 

Should  License  be  Allowed  ? — The  Views  of  Physicians — Eoolish  Argument  s  on 
the  Other  Side  —  Duties  of  a  Physician  Purely  Medical — Objections  to 
License  under  the  Moral  Aspect — Bitter  Misery  of  this  Class  of  Women — 
Effect  of  License  to  Encourage  the  Crime — The  Recognition  by  Law — 
Prostitution  can  be  Checked — Condition  of  this  Class  in  New  York  Ter- 
rible— Necessity  of  Hospitals  or  Dispensaries  for  this  Class  in  the  City — 
The  Absurdity  of  the  Berlin  License  Laws — Non-licensing  a  Terror  to  Evil- 
doers— This  Not  a  Proper  Object  for  Legislators — Effect  of  License  in  Paris 
— Superiority  of  New  York  to  other  Great  Cities  in  this  Matter  Partly  Due 
to  Non-licensing  pp.  123-131 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  BEST  PREVENTIVE   OF  VICE  AMONG  CHILDREN — INDUSTRIAL  SCHOOLS. 

Public  Schools  not  Reaching  the  Poorer  Children — Numbers  of  Yagrant  Chil- 
dren Twenty  Years  Ago — Foundation  of  the  Wilson  School — The  Rook- 
eries of  the  Eourth  Ward — Dance-saloons — Crime  of  the  Ward — Numbers 
of  Wild  Children — Efforts  to  Form  an  Association  among  the  Rich  to  con- 
nect the  Two  Ends  of  Society — All  Sects,  and  those  of  no  Sect,  Invited 
— Foundation  of  Fourth-ward  Industrial  School — Description  of  the  Chil- 
dren— Influence  of  Yolunteer  Teachers — Their  Self-sacrifice — Description 
of  some  of  the  Ladies  Engaged — Effects  of  the  Work  on  Crime  in  the 
Fourth  Ward — Marked  Improvement — Dr.  Robert  Ray's  Services — Re- 
markable Diminution  of  Yagrancy  in  the  Ward — Instance  from  our  Journal 
— Average  Expense  of  the  School  pp.  132-146 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS.  V 
CHAP  TEE.  XIII. 

GERMAN    RAG-PICKERS.  * 

Their  Quarters  on  the  Eastern  Side— Number  in  the  Eleventh  "Ward — Formation 
of  an  Association  for  their  Benefit — Its  Moving  Spirit — Social  Influences 
in  the  School— Its  Effect  on  the  Rag-pickers — Aid  from  the  German  Mer- 
chants— A  Devoted  Teacher — Dutch  Hill  and  the  Swill-gatherers — Descrip- 
tion of  the  Squatters'  Tillage— Character  of  the  People — Drunkenness — 
Faith  of  the  Children — Personal  Efforts — Discouraging  Features  of  the 
Work — Influence  of  Roman  Catholicism — Difficulties  of  a  Protestant — 
Influence  of  the  Priests — Formation  of  an  Association  of  Ladies  on  Murray 
Hill— Foundation  of  East  River  Industrial  School— Mrs.  Hurley — Her 
Devoted  Labors  for  Seventeen  Tears — Attachment  of  Children  to  Her — 
Reform  among  the  Children — Influence  of  Tolunteer  Teachers — Incidents 
among  the  Poor — A  Heroic  Girl — Happy  Changes  of  Fortune — Remarkable 
Success  among  Two  Thousand  Children — "Our  Failures  "—The  Beggar's 
Family  pp.  147-164 

CHAPTER  XIT. 

SCENES  AMONG  TIIE  POOR. 

The  Street-child — Effects  of  Drunkenness — A  Mother  Fleeing  her  Daughter — 
The  Dying  Sewing-woman — Severe  Labor — Christian  Faith — Changes  of 
Fortune — Discouragement — The  Iron- worker's  Wife — A  Little  Beggar — 
Religious  Trouble— The  Swill-gatherer's  Child— Danger  of  Ruin— A  Re- 
form—Present Condition  of  East  River  School  pp.  165-173 

CHAPTER  XT. 

THE   PROTESTANT   POOR   AND  STREET-ROVERS. 

Formation  of  an  Association  of  Ladies  on  the  West  Side — Hudson  River  In- 
dustrial School — Perseverance  of  Tolunteer  Teachers — Protestant  Poor  no 
Better  than  Catholic—"  Muscular  Orphans  "—Wild  Boys  near  East  Thirty- 
fourth  Street— Skillful  Thieves— Efforts  of  the  School— Transference  to 
Eleventh  Street— Dock  Pilferers— Success  of  our  Efforts— Need  of  Lodg- 
ing-house in  Thirty-fourth  Street  pp»  174-180 

CHAPTER  XTI. 

NEW   METHODS   OF  TEACHING. 

Generous  Proposal  of  a  Benevolent  Lady — Her  Labors  among  the  Poor — Miss 
Andrew's  Teaching — Pestalozzi's  System — Old  Systems  too  Mechanical 
and  too  much  Memorising— Effects  in  Loose  Habits  of  Thinking — In- 
accurate Observation — Children  Found  Incompetent  for  Practical  Life — 
Object  System  begins  with  the  Senses— First  Learning  of  Colors  and  of 
Numbers— Sounds  Taught  before  Names  of  Letters— Dr.  Leigh's  System— 


vi 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


Mr.  Caulkins's  Views — Words  to  be  Learned  First,  Letters  Afterward — 
Spelling  to  be  Learned  after  Heading — Quotation  from  Mr.  Caulkins's  Work 
— New  Method  of  Learning  Geography — Geography  Becomes  a  Natural 
Science — Natural  History  Taught  by  Objects — Lessons  in  Morality  and 
Religion  given  in  a  Similar  Manner — Weights,  Measures,  and  Geometry 
thus  Taught — Definition  Learned  through  Objects — Spelling  and  Grammar 
in  like  Manner — Great  Effort  on  part  of  the  Teacher  pp.  181-193 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   LITTLE  ITALIAN  ORGAN-GRINDERS. 

Italian  Quarter  in  Five  Points— Cruelty  of  the  Padroni — Rev.  Dr.  Hawks — 
Signor  Corqua — Description  of  the  Five  Points'  Italian  Settlement — Char- 
acteristics of  Poor  Italians — Foundation  of  Italian  School  in  1855 — Opposi- 
tion of  Bigoted  Italians — Anathemas  of  the  Priest — Increase  of  the  School 
— Mental  Improvement — Moral  Progress — Gratitude  of  Poor  Italians — 
Visits  among  the  Rookeries  of  the  Five  Points — Dens  in  Baxter  Street- 
Feeling  of  Italian  Children  towards  their  Teacher — Assistants  by  American- 
Italians — Co-operation  of  the  Italian  Government — Generosity  of  Italian 
Children  to  other  Charities  pp.  194-211 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  "LAMBS"  OF  COTTAGE  PLACE. 

Mr.  Macy's  Efforts — A  Free  Reading-room — Earnest  Nature  of  the  Work — 
Self-sacrifice  of  Lady  Volunteers — Miss  Macy's  Treatment  of  Colored  Chil- 
dren during  the  Riots — Good  Effects  of  the  School  in  Preventing  Thieving 
and  Begging — Cottage-place  School — The  Little  Beggars  of  the  First 
Ward — Application  to  Trinity  Church — Mr.  Lord's  Valuable  Assistance — 
Interesting  Incident — Reform  of  a  Street-sweeper  in  the  "  Lord  School" 
— A  Ragged  School  on  St.  John's  Park — Fourteenth-ward  Industrial 
School — The  Colored  Poor — Other  Industrial  Schools — The  Shanty  People 
near  the  Park — Interesting  Night-school — Efforts  to  prevent  a  New 
"  Nineteenth- street  Gang" — No  Children  Admitted  who  can  attend 
Public  Schools— Improvement  in  the  Teaching— Superintendent  of  Schools 
and  Visitors  ..,  pp.  212-222 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  BEST  REMEDY  FOR  JUVENILE  PAUPERISM. 

Effects  of  Overcrowding — No  Local  Charities  a  Complete  Remedy — Asylums 
not  Sufficient — Best  Asylum,  the  "Farmer's  Home" — Advantage  in  the 
United  States — Unlimited  Demand  for  Labor— Best  Remedy  Emigration 
to  the  West — Objections  to  the  Plan — How  they  were  Met — Incident  of  a 
Waif— Humanity  of  our  Countrywomen — Method  of  Placing  Out  the  Chil- 
dren— Difficulties  of  the  Local  Committees  pp.  223-233 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


vii 


CHAPTER  XX. 

PROVIDING  COUNTRY  HOMES— THE  OPPOSITION  TO   THIS  REMEDY — ITS  EFFECTS. 

Hostility  of  Ignorant  Roman  Catholics — Objections  of  the  Poor — Opposition  of 
the  Asylum.  Interest— Arguments  of  the  Asylum  Plan  and  for  the  Emigra- 
tion Method — A  Practical  Test  to  Apply — Advantages  of  the  Discussion- 
Effort  to  Obtain  Statistics — Figures  of  the  Results  in  the  West— Testimony 
from  Great  Numbers  of  People— Wonderful  Improvement — Changes  of 
Fortune — The  Great  Majority  become  Honest  Producers — Unlimited  De- 
mand from  the  West— No  Indentures  Required — Virtues  in  both  Plans — 
Opposition  of  Priests— Our  Action  Unsectarian — Net  Expenses  for  Each 
Emigrant-*- Amount  of  Returned  Fares  Collected — All  the  Pauper  Children 
of  the  City  could  be  thus  Placed— Answer  to  Prof.  Fawcett's  Objection — 
Our  Western  Agents — Mr  Tracy's  Quaint  Humor — Defective  Children — 
No  Accident  has  ever  Happened  pp.  234-245 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

RESULTS   AND   FACTS   OF   EMIGRATION   TO    THE  WEST. 

Our  First  Party  of  Little  Emigrants — A  Description  of  the  Waifs— Hard  Journey 
in  Emigrant  Cars — Excitement  of  the  Boys  in  the  Country — Reception  in 
the  Western  Village— Their  Sweet  Songs— The  Runaway— The  Placing  out 
of  the  Boys— The  Lost  Boy  Returned — A  Later  Party  to  the  West— Eager- 
ness to  Obtain  the  Children — Sympathy  for  the  Boys— The  Fortune  of  the 
Deaf-mute— A  Hungry  Child  Placed  in  a  Good  Home— From  the  Gutter  to 
the  College — Once  a  New- York  Pauper,  now  a  Western  Farmer... pp.  246-270 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  PRACTICAL  PHILANTHROPIST  AMONG  THE  YOUNG  ROUGHS. 

A  Description  of  the  Office  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society— Central  Figure — Mr. 
Macy— Labors  with  his  "Lambs']  in  Cottage  Place— Stormy  Meetings — 
His  Influence  over  the  Voung  Vagrants— The  Growth  of  the  Mission— His 
Humor— The  Effect  of  His  Sermon  on  Stealing— Contest  of  Wits— His  Tor- 
ments from  the  Girls  —His  Dread  of  Paupers— Efforts  among  the  German 
Children— His  Diplomatic  Tact  in  Oflice-work— His  Letters  to  the  Children 
Stereotyped  by  the  Thousand  pp.  271-279 

CHAPTER  XXHI. 

RAISING  MONEY  FOR  A  CHARITY. 

Sensation  to  be  Avoided— All  Raffles  and  Pathetic  Exhibitions  Declined— Our 
Experience  with  a  Concert— Labors  through  the  Pulpit  and  the  Press— Char- 
acter of  the  Trustees  who  entered  in  the  Work— Sources  of  Income— Mr. 
'  Barnard's  Bequest— Mr.  Chauncy  Rose's  Great  Benefaction— The  Income 
of  a  Single  Year— Different  Sources  from  which  it  is  Derived.. .  .pp.  280-285 


viii 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

REFORM  AMONG  THE  ROWDIES — FREE  READING-ROOMS. 

They  Require  Peculiar  Management  to  be  Successful— The  Eleventh-ward 
Reading-room— Its  Failure— A  Reformed  Pugilist— "  Awful  Gardner" — 
His  Career— The  Death  of  His  Son— His  Reform— His  "Words  to  His  Old 
Associates — The  Effect  of  Christianity — The  Drunkard's  Club  in  the  Fourth 
Ward — Mr.  Beecher's  Address — Gardner's  Speech — His  Influence  over 
the  Rowdies— His  Theory  of  Reform— Great  Numbers  Rescued  from 
Drunkenness  —  Failure  of  his  Health— Genuineness  of  his  Reform — Mr. 
Macy's  Reading-room — The  First-ward  Room — Mr.  J.  Couper  Lord — 
Mr.  Hawley's  Exertions — The  Free  Reading-room  a  Recognized  Means  of 
Moral  Improvement  pp.  286-297 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

HOMELESS  GIRLS. 

The  President  of  the  Society — Mr.  William  A.  Booth— His  Character  and 
Capacity — His  Policy  in  Regard  to  the  Lodging-houses— His  Suggestion 
about  the  Street-girls— The  Histories  of  these  Girls— Causes  of  their  Condi- 
tion— Their  Unstable  Character— Their  Condition  Fifteen  Tears  Ago 
Hopeless— The  Girls'  Lodging-house— Its  Plan— Means  of  Filling  it- 
Miserable  Girls  who  Applied  for  A  dmission— Great  Difficulties  Encount- 
ered—Necessity  of  Confining  it  to  the  Young,  and  Those  not  Yicious — 
Principal  Frequenters,  Young  Girls  between  Fourteen  and  Eighteen— The 
Matron — Her  Characteristics — The  House  was  not  to  be  an  Asylum — Our 
Effort  to  put  the  Girls  in  Places— Struggles  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Trott— Inci- 
dents from  the  Journal— Cases  of  Reform— The  Sewing-machine  School 
—Its  Great  Success— Training  School  for  Servants— Results  from  the 
"Work  of  the  Lodging-house  pp.  298-315 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

the  nineteenth-street  gang  of  ruffians— "a  moral  disinfectant." 

History  of  the  Formation  of  the  Mneteenth-street  Gang— Our  Efforts  to  Reform 
it — Mr.  Slater's  Labors— Improvement  of  Yagabond  Boys— Reform  of  Petty 
Thieves— Good  Fortune  of  a  Homeless  Lad— "Warning,  in  1854,  from  the 
Dangers  of  these  Lads  —  Their  Extraordinary  Crimes— Murder  of  Mr. 
Swanton — Murder  of  Mr.  Rogers — Failure  at  that  time  of  our  Reformatory 
Efforts — Renewed  in  1865— Lodging-house  Founded  in  Eighteenth  Street — 
The  Superintendent— His  Characteristics— The  Assistance  of  a  Benevo- 
lent Gentleman— His  Influence  over  the  Boys— Mr.  Gourley's  Economy 
—A  Test  of  his  Patience— The  Ingratitude  of  Two  Boys— Their  Im- 
provement—The Reformatory  Effects  of  the  Lodging-house— Its  Tabular 
Statement   pp.  316-329 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


ix 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 

THE  MINISTRY  OF  FLOWERS — THE  LITTLE  VAGABONDS  OF  CORLEAR'S  HOOK. 

The  Rookeries  of  the  M  Hook  "  —  The  "Gavroches"  and  "  Topsies  "  of  the 
Quarter— Great  Number  of  Hpmeless  Children — A  School-building  turned 
into  a  Lodging-house  —  The  Superintendent —His  Artistic  Faculty— 
Flowers— A  Novel  Reward  for  the  Children— Distribution  of  Flowers 
among  the  Poor— An  Aquarium  and  Green-house— The  Industrial  School— 
An  Earnest  Teacher — The  Children  Like  Little  Indians— The  Night-school 
and  Free  Reading-room— Sunday-evening  Meetings — Assistance  by  various 
Gentlemen— A  Young  Army  Officer  and  others— The  Effect  of  these 
Meetings — The  Purchase  of  the  House— Begging  Money  for  Charities— A 
Disagreeable  Duty— Liberality  of  New  York  Merchants — Labors  of  Two 
of  the  Trustees— Gift  of  a  Beautiful  Conservatory  to  the  Lodging-house — 
The  Attractions  of  the  School-room — Mothers'  Meetings— Statistics  of  the 
Lodging-house— Eleventh-ward  Lodging-house— The  Little  Copper- 
stealers — Difficulties  of  the  Superintendent  in  this  House — Final  Success 
— The  Mght-school,  Day-school,  and  Bank— Sunday-evening  Meetings 
—Labors  of  One  Trustee— Our  Hopes  to  Secure  Better  Lodging-house- 
Statistics   „  I  pp.  330-338 

CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

THE    CHILD  VAGRANT. 

Passion  for  Roving  Among  Children— A  Rover  Reformed— Sent  to  the  West, 
and  Wanders  over  the  Woods  and  Mountains— The  Habits  of  Little'Street- 
vagrants  —  Unaccountable  Preference  for  Particular  Lodging-houses  — 
Greatest  Number  in  the  Spring— Different  Class  of  Boys  in  each  House — 
Mystery  of  what  Becomes  of  a  Great  Number  of  Them— Down-town  Boys 
Sharper  than  the  Up-town — Influence  of  Theatres  upon  them — The  Salva- 
tion of  New  York  its  Climate— A  Corrective — A  License  should  be  Required 
of  each  Street-trader — A  License  to  be  Accompanied  by  a  School  Certifi- 
cate—Such a  Law  could  be  Executed— Success  of  similar  Boston  Laws — 
School-training  Preventing  Vagrancy  and  Pauperism — Truant-schools  not 
Needed — Compulsory  Education — Half-time  Schools— Such  a  Law  not 
Needed  Formerly,  Now  Required  Everywhere— Statistics  of  Illiteracy— The 
Ignorant  Form  the  Dangerous  Classes  in  this  City— The  Power  of  Prussia 
in  the  Compulsory  Law— An  Approach  to  in  the  Legislation  in  the  Different 
States  on  Factory  children  pp.  339-352 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

FACTORY-CHILDREN  AND  THE  NEW  LAW  PROPOSED. 

Experience  in  the  Night-schools— Great  Numbers  of  Young  Children  Em- 
ployed in  Factories— Their  Eagerness  to  Learn— Experience  of  England— 


X 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


Statistics  of  Children  Employed  in  Factories  in  New  York— Facts  and 
Incidents— Mr.  Mundella's  Views  of  the  Evils  in  this  Country— Massa- 
chusetts Legislation— Effects  of  the  Law— Half-time  Schools— "  Double 
Gangs  "—Rhode  Island  Legislation— Connecticut  Legislation— Descrip- 
tion of  the  Act— Defects  of  the  Law— Hearty  Co-operation  of  the  Man- 
ufacturers— The  New  York  Law  Proposed,  Drawn  up  by  Mr.  C.  E. 
Whitehead,  Secures  Education  for  all  Children  Employed,  and  Protects 
them  from  Dangers  -  pp.  353-365 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

ORGANIZATION  OF  CHARITIES. 

Enthusiasm  of  Humanity— Necessity  of  Machinery — Dangers  of  Routine — Im- 
portance of  Interested  Motives  —  Duties  of  Trustees— Compensation — 
Charity  should  not  be  Too  Much  of  a  Business — Importance  of  other  Pursuits 
for  an  Agent  of  a  Charity — Best  Constitution  of  a  Board  of  Trustees — Im- 
portance of  their  Personal  Share  in  the  Work— Rigid  Inspection  Necessary 
—Duties  of  the  Executive  Officers  pp.  366-376 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

STATE    AID  TO  CHARITIES. 

Discussion  How  Ear  the  State  should  Aid  in  Charities — Dangers  of  State  Endow- 
ments— Weakness  of  Individual  Charities — Danger  of  Machinery  Taking 
Place  of  Work— The  Natural  Family  Better  than  the  Asylum  Machinery — 
The  Needless  Multiplication  of  Charities — Bad  Effects  on  the  Poor  and  on 
the  Public — A  Trade  in  Alms— Necessity  of  a  Bureau — Should  be  Directed 
by  the  State  Board  of  Charities  pp.  377-387 


CHAPTER  XXXH. 

HOW  BEST  TO  GIVE  ALMS — "TAKE,  NOT  GIVE." 

Reply  of  the  Missionary  in  East  London— The  Evil  of  Alms-giving— Experi- 
ence of  the  English— Everything  given  but  Education— Charity  Expenses 
of  London — Good  Fortune  of  this  Country — Degrading  Influence  of  Alms — 
Able-bodied  Paupers  in  New  York  —  Transmitted  Pauperism — Terrible 
Instance  in  an  Alms-house  in  Western  New  York— Outdoor  Relief  very 
Dangerous— Ought  to  be  Limited  in  this  City — Private  Alms  Better— Abuse 
of  Private  Benefactions— Great  Number  of  Deserving  Poor  in  the  City — 
Policy  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society— They  Desire  to  Prevent  the  Demand 

^  for  Alms— Our  Lodging-houses  Cultivate  Independence— Boys  Obliged  to 
Pay— The  "Howland  Fund  "—Distribution  of  Gifts  on  Christmas— Objec- 
tions to  the  "Bootblack  Brigade  "—Our  Industrial  Schools  Reformatories 
of  Pauperism— Garments  given  as  Rewards  for  Good  Conduct— Begging 
Discouraged-Barents  Induced  to  Save— Principle  of  this  Society  to  give 
Education  rather  than  Alms  pp.  388-397 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


xi 


CHAPTER  XXXni. 

HOW  SHALL  CRIMINAL  CHILDREN  BE  TREATED? 

The  Child,  above  all,  an  Individual— TTnsuited  to  be  put  in  a  large  Institution- 
Influence  of  a  Number  of  Criminal  Children  on  One  Another — Absence  of 
the  Most  Powerful  Forces  of  the  Outside  "World — The  Work  of  a  Reform- 
atory not  suited  for  After-life?- Working  the  Ground  the  Best— Garden- 
work  very  Useful  for  Criminal  Young  Girls— Mr.  Pease's  Success — The 
True  Plan— The  "  Family  System  "—Each  Child  does  the  Small  Work  of 
the  Cottage — Children  near  the  Natural  Condition — Only  Defect  the  Un- 
profitableness of  the  Labor — The  Most  Successful  Reformatories  of  Europe 
on  the  Family  System  pp.  398-403 

*        CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  FOUNDLINGS  ? 

The  Need  of  Shelter  for  Illegitimate  Children — Their  Numbers  in  European 
Cities — Estimated  Number  in  New  York — Number  of  Still-births— Relation 
of  Illegitimacy  to  Crime— Statistics  in  France— Foundling  Asylums — Ter- 
rible Mortality  of  London  Foundling  Hospital,  also  of  St.  Petersburg  and 
Paris  Hospitals — Former  Great  Mortality  of  Infant-Hospital  in  New  York — 
Recent  Improvement— Mortality  of  the  Massachusetts  Alms-house,  and  in 
Dorchester  Infant-Asylum— Great  Difficulty  in  Raising  a  Child  without  a 
Nurse  or  its  Mother— Best  Course  is,  "  Placing-out  System  "—Great  Suc- 
cess of  "Bureau  of  Ste  Apolline  "—Mortality  Greatly  Reduced— Children 
Scattered  over  France— The  Outlay  by  the  Government — The  Moral  Effects 
— This  Bureau  to  be  Distinguished  from  Private  Bureaus— The  Boarding 
out  in  Hamburg,  in  Berlin,  in  Dublin— The  Family  Plan — Tendency  of  all 
Civilized  Countries  towards  this  Plan— All  the  Illegitimate  Children  in  this 
City  might  be  Placed  out  in  Country  Homes— Duties  of  the  Legislature  in 
regard  to  Illegitimacy— Objections  to  the  French  Turning-tables  —  Too 
Great  Laxness  Injurious— The  New  York  Law  too  Severe  pp.  404-417 

CHAPTER  XXXY. 
RELIGIOUS  instruction  for  street-children. 

The  Difficulties  of  Religious  Teaching— Street-children  not  to  be  Influenced 
like  Sunday  Schools— Rhetoric  and  Sentiment  do  not  Touch  Them— True 
Oratory  and  the  Dramatic  Method  always  Reach  them— They  are  Peculiarly 
Open  to  Religion,  but  Exposed  to  Overwhelming  Temptations — Solemn 
Aspect  of  their  Position  to  the  Speaker— The  Problem— The  Object  to  Im- 
plant Religious  Love  and  Faith — Moral  Influences  not  Sufficient — "  Bread- 
and-Butter  Piety  "  Doubtful— Objection  to  Prizes  or  Rewards— Religious 
Instruction  not  so  desirable  as  Religious  Inspiration — The  New  Testament 
to  be  Preferred  to  the  Old— The  Knowledge  and  Faith  in  Christ,  Most  of  all 
Needed— What  this  Faith  Has  Done,  and  What  it  Can  Do— Mistakes  of 


Xll 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


Sunday-school  Oratory— Rhetorical  Pyrotechnics  not  Wanted— Allegory 
the  Best  Method — Our  Best  Speaker  a  Sportsman— His  Sympathies  with 
Boys  and  with  Nature — "Bible  in  Schools  " — Religious  Instruction  in 
Public  Schools  Desirable,  if  all  were  of  the  same  Faith — Bible-reading  used 
by  the  Priests  Against  the  Schools  —Free  Schools  the  Life-blood  of  the  Na- 
tion— Protestants  should  Never  Allow  Them  to  be  Broken  Up — Protestant 
Pluck— Are  School  Religious  Exercises  of  Much  Use— Separation  of  Church 
and  State — Experience  of  England— Free  Schools  without  Religion,  rather 
than  no  Free  Schools  pp.  418-428 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

DECREASE  OF  JUVENILE  CRIME — COST  OF  PUNISHMENT  AND  PREVENTION. 

Instance  of  the  Three  Brothers  in  the  Newsboys 'Lodging-house— The  Damage 
Inflicted  by  One  on  the  Community — The  G-ain  brought  by  the  Labor  of 
the  Others— Cost  of  Our  Criminals  last  Year — Amount  of  Property  Taken 
— Expenses  of  Prevention — Average  Cost  of  each  Child  in  our  Industrial 
Schools— In  our  Lodging-houses— And  when  sent  to  the  West— Number 
Provided  for  in  the  Country— Crime  Checked — Commitments  of  Female 
Yagrants — Arrests  of  Female  Yagrants — Commitments  for  Thieving — For 
"Juvenile  Delinquency  " — Number  of  Girls  under  Fifteen  Years  Old  Im- 
prisoned— Great  Decrease  of  Crime  among  Girls— Crime  Checked  among 
Boys — Commitment  of  Boys  for  Yagrancy — For  Petit  Larceny — Number 
of  Boys  under  Fifteen  Years  Old  Imprisoned — Number  between  Fifteen  and 
Twenty— Arrests  of  Pickpockets — Of  Petty  Thieves  — Of  Girls  under 
Twenty — Estimate  of  Money  Saved  in  One  Year  by  Reduction  of  Commit- 
ments pp.  429-439 

CHAPTER  XXXYII. 

THE  CAUSES  OF  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  WORK. 

This  Charity  has  always  Encouraged  Self-help — No  Pauperism  Stimulated  under 
it — The  Laborer  in  this  Field  sees  the  Fruit — Harmony  with  Natural  Laws 
sought  for  constantly — Advantage  Taken  of  Demand  for  Labor — The  Fam- 
ily Home  sought  for,  rather  than  the  Asylum  —Lodging-houses  not  Permit- 
ted to  become  Homes— Evening-schools — Savings'-bank,  Religious  Meet- 
ing, and  Day-school— All  Stimulates  Self-help — The  Forces  under  the  So- 
ciety the  Strongest  Forces  of  Life — The  Work  Founded  on  Natural  Princi- 
ples—Just Treatment  of  the  Employes  by  the  Trustees — This  Charity  as 
well  served  as  any  Business-house— The  Aim  of  the  Executive  Officer  with 
the  Employes— Great  Success  of  many  of  them— One  Million  of  Dollars 
passed  through  the  Treasury,  and  not  One  Squandered— High  Character  of 
the  Board  of  Trustees— The  Success  much  Dependent  on  them — Tabulation 
of  the  Accounts— Long  Services  of  the  Treasurer,  Mr.  J.  E.Williams— 
The  Sectarian  Danger— Great  Care  to  Avoid  this— The  Utmost  Publicity 
a  Necessity — Need  for  State  Aid— Sensation  to  be  Avoided— Hopes  that 
this  Charity  will  Scatter  its  Blessings  for  Generations  to  come.,  pp.  440-448 


THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES 


OF   NEW  YORK; 
AND  TWENTY  YEARS'  WORK  AMONG  THEM. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHRIST  IN  CHARITY  AND  REFORM. 

THE  CONDITION  OF  NEGLECTED  CHILDREN  BEFORE  CHRIS- 
TIANITY. 

The  central  figure  in  the  world's  charity  is  Christ, 
An  eloquent  rationalistic  writer — Mr.  Lecky — 
speaking  of  the  Christian  efforts  in  early  ages  in 
behalf  of  exposed  children  and  against  infanticide, 
says : 

u  Whatever  mistakes  may  have  been  made,  the 
entire  movement  I  have  traced  displays  an  anxiety 
not  only  for  the  life,  but  for  the  moral  well-being,  of 
the  castaways  of  society,  such  as  the  most  humane 
nations  of  antiquity  had  never  reached.  This  minute 
and  scrupulous  care  for  human  life  and  human 
virtue  in  the  humblest  forms,  in  the  slave,  the 


14      THE  DANGrEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


gladiator,  the  savage,  or  the  infant,  was  indeed 
wholly  foreign  to  the  genius  of  Paganism.  It  was 
produced  by  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  inestima- 
ble value  of  each  immortal  soul. 

"It  is  the  distinguishing  and  transcendent  char- 
acteristic of  every  society  into  which  the  spirit  of 
Christianity  has  passed." 

Christ  has  indeed  given  a  new  value  to  the 
poorest  and  most  despised  human  being. 

When  one  thinks  what  was  the  fate  before  He 
lived,  throughout  the  civilized  world,  of  for  instance 
one  large  and  pitiable  class  of  human  beings — un- 
fortunate children,  destitute  orphans,  foundlings,  the 
deformed  and  sickly,  and  female  children  of  the 
poor ;  how  almost  universal,  even  under  the  highest 
pagan  civilization — the  Greek  and  Roman— infanti- 
cide was;  how  Plato  and  Aristotle  both  approved 
of  it;  how  even  more  common  was  the  dreadful 
exposure  of  children  who  were  physically  imperfect 
or  for  any  cause  disagreeable  to  their  parents,  so 
that  crowds  of  these  little  unfortunates  were  to  be 
seen  exposed  around  a  column  near  the  Yelabrum 
at  Rome — some  being  taken  to  be  raised  as  slaves, 
others  as  prostitutes,  others  carried  off  by  beggars 
and  maimed  for  exhibition,  or  captured  by  witches 
to  be  murdered,  and  their  bodies  used  in  their 
magical  preparations ;  when  one  remembers  for 
how  many  centuries,  even  after  the  nominal  intro- 


EXPOSURE  OF  CHILDREN.  15 

duction  of  Christianity,  the  sale  of  free  children 
was  permitted  by  law,  and  then  recalls  how  utterly 
the  spirit  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity  has  exter- 
minated these  barbarous  practices  from  the  civilized 
world )  what  vast  and  ingenious  charities  exist  in 
every  Christian  country  for  this  unfortunate  class; 
what  time  and  wealth  and  thought  are  bestowed  to 
heal  the  diseases,  purify  the  morals,  raise  the  char- 
acter, and  make  happy  the  life  of  foundlings,  outcast 
girls  and  boys  and  orphans,  we  can  easily  under- 
stand that  the  source  of  the  charities  of  civilized 
nations  has  been  especially  in  Christ  ;  and  knowing 
how  vital  the  moral  care  of  unfortunate  children  is 
to  civilization  itself,  the  most  skeptical  among  us 
may  still  put  Him  at  the  head  of  even  modern  social 
reform. 

EXPOSURE  OF  CHILDREN. 

The  u  exposure  of  children  "  is  spoken  of  casually 
and  with  indifference  by  numerous  Latin  authors. 
The  comedians  include  the  custom  in  their  pictures 
of  the  daily  Eoman  life,  usually  without  even  a 
passing  condemnation.  Thus,  in  Terence's  play 
(Heauton:  Act  iii.,  sc.  v.),  the  very  character  who 
uttered  the  apothegm  which  has  become  a  proverb 
of  humanity  for  all  ages— "  I  am  a  man,  and  nothing 
belonging  to  man  is  alien  to  me  v — is  represented,  on 
the  eve  of  his  departure  on  a  long  journey,  as  urging 
his  wife  to  destroy  the  infant  soon  to  be  born,  if  it 


16     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


should  prove  to  be  a  girl,  rather  than  expose  it.  She, 
however,  exposes  it7  and  it  was  taken,  as  was  usual, 
and  brought  up  as  a  prostitute.  This  play  turns  in 
its  plot,  as  is  true  of  many  popular  comedies,  on  this 
exposition  of  the  abandoned  child. 

It  is  frequently  commented  on  by  Eoman  drama- 
tists, and  subsequently  by  the  early  Christian  preach- 
ers, that,  owing  to  this  terrible  custom,  brothers 
might  marry  sisters,  or  fathers  share  in  the  ruin  of 
their  unknown  daughters  in  houses  of  crime. 

Seneca,  who  certainly  always  writes  with  pro- 
priety and  aims  to  be  governed  by  reason,  in  his 
treatise  on  Anger  (De  Ira:  i.,  15),  comments  thus 
calmly  on  the  practice :  "  Portentos  foetus  extingui- 
mus;  liberos  quoque  si  debiles,  monstrosique  editi 
sunt,  mergimus.  Non  ira,  sed  ratio  est,  a  sanis, 
inutilia  secernere."  (Monstrous  offspring  we  destroy ; 
children  too,  if  weak  and  unnaturally  formed  from 
birth,  we  drown.  It  is  not  anger,  but  reason,  thus  to 
separate  the  useless  from  the  sound.) 

In  another  work  (Controversi,  lib.  v.,  33),  he  de- 
nounces the  horrible  practice,  common  in  Eome,  of 
maiming  these  unfortunate  children  and  then  offering 
them  to  the  gaze  of  the  compassionate.  He  describes 
the  miserable  little  creatures  with  shortened  limbs, 
broken  joints,  and  curved  backs,  exhibited  by  the 
villainous  beggars  who  had  gathered  them  at  the 
Lactaria,  and  then  deformed  them :  "  Volo  nosse," 


EXPOSURE  OF  CHILDREN. 


17 


"  I  should  like  to  know/7  says  the  moralist,  with  a 
burst  of  human  indignation,  "illam  calamitatum 
humanarum  officinam— illud  infantum  spoliarium ! " 
— u  that  workshop  of  human  misfortunes — those 
shambles  of  infants  ! ?? 

On  the  day  that  G-ermanicus  died,  says  Suetonius 
(in  Calig.,  n.  5),  u  Subversae  Deum  arse,  partus  con- 
jugum  expositi,"  parents  exposed  their  new-born 
babes. 

The  early  Christian  preachers  and  writers  were 
unceasing  in  their  denunciations  of  the  practice. 

Quintilian  (Deck  306,  vol  vi.,  p.  236)  draws  a  most 
moving  picture  of  the  fate  of  these  unhappy  chil- 
dren lef£  in  the  Forum :  u  Earum  est  ut  expositi 
vivant!  Vos  ponite  ante  oculos  puerum  statim  ne- 
glectum   *    *    *    inter  feras  et  volucres." 

"  It  is  rare  that  the  exposed  survive  ! ??  he  says. 

Tertullian,  in  an  eloquent  passage  (Apol.,  c.  9), 
asks:  "Quot  vultis  ex  his  circumstantibus  et  in 
christianum  sanguinem  hiantibus  *  *  *  apud 
conscientias  pulsem,  qui  natos  sibi  liberos  enecent  ? 79 

u  How  many,  do  you  suppose,  of  those  standing 
about  and  panting  for  the  blood  of  Christians,  if  I 
should  put  it  to  them  before  their  very  conscience, 
would  deny  that  they  killed  their  own  children  ? 11 

Lactantius,  who  was  the  tutor  of  the  son  of  Con- 
stantine,  in  a  book  dedicated  to  Constantine,  protests: 
"  It  is  impossible  to  grant  that  one  has  the  right  to 


18      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOKEL 

strangle  one's  new-born  children  ?? ;  and  speaks  of  ex- 
position as  exposing  one's  own  blood — "  ad  servitntem 
vel  ad  lupanar  " — "  for  slavery  or  trie  brothel."  "  It  is 
a  crime  as  execrable  to  expose  a  child  as  to  kill  him." 

So  fearfully  did  the  numbers  increase,  under  the 
Roman  Empire,  of  these  unfortunate  children,  that 
the  spark  of  charity,  which  is  never  utterly  extin- 
guished in  the  human  breast,  began  to  kindle.  Pliny 
the  Younger  is  said  to  have  appropriated  a  sum 
equivalent  to  $52,000  (see  Epist.,  v.,  7),  to  found  an 
asylum  for  fathers  unable  to  support  their  children. 

THE  FIRST  CHILDREN'S  ASYLUM. 

Probably  the  first  society  or  asylum  in  history  for 
poor  children  was  the  foundation  established  by  the 
Emperor  Trajan  (about  A.  D.  110)  for  destitute  and 
abandoned  children.  The  property  thus  established 
in  perpetuity,  with  real  estate  and  money  at  interest 
(at  five  per  cent.),  was  equivalent  in  value  to  $920,000, 
and  supported  some  five  thousand  children  of  both 
sexes.  Singularly  enough,  there  seems  to  have  been 
only  one  illegitimate  child  to  one  hundred  and  fifty 
legitimate  in  these  institutions. 

The  Antonines,  as  might  be  expected,  did  not 
neglect  this  charity;  but  both  Antoninus  Pius  and 
Marcus  Aurelius  founded  associations  for  destitute 
girls.  Alexander  Severus  established  one  also  for 
poor  children.  These  form  the  only  organized 
efforts  made  for  this  object,  during   many  cen- 


ROMAN  CHARITIES. 


19 


turies,  by  the  most  civilized  and  refined  state  of 
antiquity. 

The  number,  however,  of  these  wretched  creatures 
increased  beyond  all  cure  from  scattered  exceptional 
efforts  like  these.  Everywhere  the  poor  got  rid  of 
their  children  by  exposure,  or  sold  them  as  slaves. 
The  rich,  if  indifferent  to  their  offspring,  or  unwilling 
to  take  the  trouble  of  rearing  them,  sent  them  out  to 
the  public  square,  where  pimps,  beggars,  witches, 
and  slave-dealers  gleaned  their  horrible  harvest.  At 
length,  under  the  influence  of  Christianity,  legislation 
began  to  take  cognizance  of  the  practice. 

The  Emperor  Constantine,  the  Emperor  Valentian, 
Valens,  and  Gratian,  sixty  years  later,  continued  this 
humane  legislation. 

They  ordered,  under  strict  penalties,  that  every 
one  should  nourish  his  own  children,  and  forbade 
exposition ;  declaring  also  that  no*  one  had  the  right 
to  reclaim  the  children  he  had  abandoned;  the 
motive  to  this  law  being  the  desire  to  make  it  for  the 
interest  of  those  " taking  up"  exposed  children  to 
keep  them, .  even  if  necessary,  as  slaves,  against  any 
outside  claims. 

Unfortunately,  at  that  period,  slavery  was  held  a 
less  evil  than  the  ordinary  fate  to  which  the  poor  left 
their  children. 

The  punishment  of  death  was  also  decreed  against 
infanticide. 


20      THE  DANGKEBOUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  a  portion,  and  prob- 
ably tlie  whole,  of  our  ancestral  tribes  looked  with 
the  greatest  horror  on  abortion  and  infanticide.  The 
laws  of  the  Yisigoths  punished  these  offenses  with 
death  or  blindness.  Their  influence,  of  course,  should 
always  be  considered,  as  well  as  that  of  Christianity, 
in  estimating  the  modern  position  of  woman  and  the 
outcast  child,  as  compared  with  their  status  under 
Greek  and  Eoman  civilization. 

At  a  later  period  (412  A.  d.)  the  imperial  legisla- 
tion again  endeavored  to  prevent  the  reclaiming  of 
exposed  children  from  compassionate  persons  who 
had  taken  them.  u  Were  they  right  to  say  that  those 
children  belonged  to  them  when  they  had  despised 
them  even  to  the  point  of  abandoning  them  to 
death 

It  was  provided  also,  that  in  future  no  one  should 
"take  from  the  ground 7?  exposed  children  except  in 
the  presence  of  witnesses,  and  that  the  archbishop 
should  put  his  signature  on  the  document  of  guard- 
ianship which  was  prepared.  (Cod.  Theod.,  lib.  5,  tit. 
7,  Be  Expositis.) 

Hitherto,  exposed  children  had  generally  been 
taken  and  reared  as  slaves ;  but  in  A.  d.  529,  Justin- 
ian decreed  that  not  only  the  father  lost  all  legitimate 
authority  over  the  child  if  he  exposed  it,  but  also  that 
the  child  itself  preserved  its  liberty. 

This  law  applied  only  to  the  Eastern  Empire ;  in 


REFORM  UNDER  CHRISTIANITY. 


21 


the  Western  the  slavery  of  exposed  children  continued 
for  centuries.  (Lecky:  Hist,  of  Europ.  Morals,  vol.  ii., 
p.  32.)  The  Christian  churches  throughout  the  early 
centuries  took  especial  care  of  orphans,  in  parish 
orphan  nurseries,  or  orpJianotrophice. 

The  first  asylums  for  deserted  and  foundling  chil- 
dren which  are  recorded  in  the  Christian  era  are  one 
in  Treves  in  the  sixth  century,  one  at  Angiers  in  the 
seventh,  and  a  more  famous  one  in  Milan,  A.  d.  787. 

Societies  for  the  protection  of  children  were  also 
formed  in  Milan  in  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century. 

At  the  end  of  that  century  a  monk  of  Montpelier, 
Brother  Guy,  formed  what  may  be  called  the  first 
u  Children's  Aid  Society,''  for  the  protection,  shelter, 
and  education  of  destitute  children,  a  fraternity  which 
subsequently  spread  over  Europe. 

One  great  cause  of  the  final  extreme  corruption 
and  extinction  of  ancient  pagan  society  was  the 
existence  of  large  classes  of  unfortunate  beings,  whom 
no  social  moral  movement  of  renovation  ever  reached 
— the  slaves,  the  gladiators,  the  barbarian  strangers, 
and  the  outcast  children. 

To  all  these  deep  strata  of  misery  and  crime 
Christianity  gradually  penetrated,  and  brought  life 
and  light,  and  finally  an  almost  entire  metamorphosis. 
As  criminal  and  unfortunate  classes,  they  have — with 
the  exception  only  of  the  children — ceased  to  exist 


22      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

under  modern  civilization.  We  have  no  longer  at 
the  basis  of  modern  society  the  dangers  of  a  multi- 
tude of  ignorant  slaves,  or  of  disaffected  barbarous 
foreigners,  or  of  a  profession  of  gladiators — brutal, 
brutalizing ;  but  we  do  still  have  masses  of  unfortu- 
nate youth,  whose  condition,  though  immensely  im- 
proved and  lightened  by  the  influences  of  Christianity, 
is  still  one  of  the  most  threatening  and  painful 
phenomena  of  modern  society  in  nearly  all  civilized 
countries. 

Still,  unlike  the  experience  of  Paganism  under  the 
Eoman  Empire  and  before  it,  rays  of  light,  of  intelli- 
gence, and  of  moral  and  spiritual  influence  pene- 
trate to  the  depths  of  these  masses.  The  spirit  of 
Christ  is  slowly  and  irresistibly  permeating  even 
this  lowest  class  of  miserable,  unfortunate,  or  criminal 
beings;  inspiring  those  who  perseveringly  labor  for 
them,  drawing  from  wealth  its  dole  and  from  intelli- 
gence its  service  of  love,  educating  the  fortunate  in 
the  habit  of  duty  to  the  unfortunate,  giving  a  dignity 
to  the  most  degraded,  and  offering  hope  to  the 
despairing. 

Christ  leads  the  Eeform  of  the  world,  as  well  as 
its  Charity. 

Those  who  have  much  to  do  with  alms-giving  and 
plans  of  human  improvement  soon  see  how  superficial 
and  comparatively  useless  all  assistance  or  organiza- 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  FAITH. 


23 


tion  is,  which,  does  not  touch  habits  of  life  and  the 
inner  forces  which  form  character.  The  poor  helped 
each  year  become  poorer  in  force  and  independence. 
Education  is  a  better  preventive  of  pauperism  than 
charity.  The  best  police  and  the  most  complete  form 
of  government  are  nothing  if  the  individual  morality 
be  not  there.  But  Christianity  is  the  highest  educa- 
tion of  character.  Give  the  poor  that,  and  only 
seldom  will  either,  alms  or  punishment  be  necessary. 

When  one  comes  to  know  the  peculiar  overpower- 
ing temptations  which  beset  the  class  of  unfortunate 
children  and  similar  classes;  the  inducements  to 
sharpness,  deception,  roguery,  lying,  fraud,  coarse- 
ness, vice  in  many  forms,  besides  toward  open  offenses 
against  the  law;  the  few  restraining  influences  in 
social  opinion,  good  example,  or  inherited  self-control ; 
the  forces  without  and  the  organization  within  im- 
pelling to  crime,  and  then  sees  how  immensely  power- 
ful the  belief  in  and  love  for  a  supernatural  and 
noble  character  and  Friend  is  upon  such  wild  natures ; 
how  it  inspires  to  nobleness,  restrains  low  passions, 
changes  bad  habits,  and  transforms  base  hearts ;  how 
the  thoughts  of  this  supernatural  Friend  can  accom- 
pany a  child  of  the  street,  and  make  his  daily  hard 
life  an  offering  of  loving  service ;  how  the  unseen 
sympathy  can  dry  the  orphan's  tears,  and  throw  a 
light  of  cheerfulness  around  the  wan,  pale  face  of  the 
little  vagrant,  and  bring  down  something  of  the  splen- 


24     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


dor  of  heaven  to  the  dark  cellars  and  dreary  dens  of 
a  great  city:  whoever  has  had  this  experience — not 
once?  but  many  times — will  begin  to  understand  that 
Christ  must  lead  Eeform  as  well  as  Charity,  and 
that  without  Him  the  worst  diseases  of  modern 
society  can  never  be  cured. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  STREET  WAIF. 

(First  Stage.) 


CHAPTEE  II. 

THE  PROLETAIRES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

New  York  is  a  much,  younger  city  than  its  Euro- 
pean rivals;  and  with  perhaps  one-third  the  population 
of  London,  yet  it  presents  varieties  of  life  among  the 
u  masses  "  quite  as  picturesque,  and  elements  of  pop- 
ulation even  more  dangerous.  The  throng  of  different 
nationalities  in  the  American  city  gives  a  peculiarly 
variegated  air  to  the  life  beneath  the  surface,  and  the 
enormous  over-cro.wding  in  portions  of  the  poor  quar- 
ters intensifies  the  evils,  peculiar  to  large  towns,  to  a 
degree  seen  only  in  a  few  districts  in  such  cities  as 
London  and  Liverpool. 

The  mass  of  poverty  and  wretchedness  is,  of 
course,  far  greater  in  the  English  capital.  There  are 
classes  with  inherited  pauperism  and  crime  more 
deeply  stamped  in  them,  in  London  or  Glasgow,  than 
we  ever  behold  in  Eew  York;  but  certain  small  dis- 
tricts can  be  found  in  our  metropolis  with  the  unhappy 
fame  of  containing  more  human  beings  packed  to  the 
square  yard,  and  stained  with  more  acts  of  blood  and 
riot,  within  a  given  period,  than  is  true  of  any  other 
equal  space  of  earth  in  the  civilized  world. 


26      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


There  are  houses,  well  known  to  sanitary  boards 
and  the  police,  where  Fever  has  taken  a  perennial 
lease,  and  will  obey  no  legal  summons  to  quit ;  where 
Cholera — if  a  single  germ-seed  of  it  float  anywhere  in 
American  atmosphere — at  once  ripens  a  black  har- 
vest; where  Murder  has  stained  every  floor  of  its 
gloomy  stories,  and  Vice  skulks  or  riots  from  one 
year's  end  to  the  other.  Such  houses  are  never 
reformed.  The  only  hope  for  them  is  in  the  march  of 
street  improvements,  which  will  utterly  sweep  them 
away. 

It  is  often  urged  that  the  breaking-up  of  these 
u  dens"  and  u fever-nests"  only  scatters  the  pesti- 
lence and  moral  disease,  but  does  not  put  an  end  to 
them. 

The  objection  is  more  apparent  than  real.  The 
abolishing  of  one  of  these  centres  of  crime  and  pov- 
erty is  somewhat  like  withdrawing  the  virus  from  one 
diseased  limb  and  diffusing  it  through  an  otherwise 
healthy  body.  It  seems  to  lose  its  intensity.  The 
diffusion  weakens.  Above  all,  it  is  less  likely  to 
become  hereditary. 

One  of  the  remarkable  and  hopeful  things  about 
New  York,  to  a  close  observer  of  its  "  dangerous 
classes,"  is,  as  I  shall  show  in  a  future  chapter,  that 
they  do  not  tend  to  become  fixed  and  inherited,  as  in 
European  cities. 

But,  though  the  crime  and  pauperism  of  New  York 


AMERICAN  "  ROUGHS." 


2? 


are  not  so  deeply  stamped  in  the  blood  of  the  popula- 
tion, they  are  even  more  dangerous.  The  intensity  of  • 
the  American  temperament  is  felt  in  every  fibre  of 
these  children  of  poverty  and  vice.  Their  crimes 
have  the  unrestrained  and  sanguinary  character  of  a 
race  accustomed  to  overcome  all  obstacles.  They  rifle 
a  bank,  where  English  thieves  pick  a  pocket ;  they 
murder,  where  European  proletaires  cudgel  or  fight 
with  fists ;  in  a  riot,  they  begin  what  seems  about  to 
be  the  sacking  of  a  city,  where  English  rioters  would 
merely  batter  policemen,  or  smash  lamps.  The  "  dan- 
gerous classes "  of  New  York  are  mainly  American- 
born,  but  the  children  of  Irish  and  German  immi- 
grants. They  are  as  ignorant  as  London  flash-men  or 
costermongers.  They  are  far  more  brutal  than  the 
peasantry  from  whom  they  descend,  and  they  are 
much  banded  together,  in  associations,  such  as  "Dead 
Babbit,"  "  Plug-ugly,"  and  various  target  companies. 
They  are  our  enfants  perdus,  grown  up  to  young  man- 
hood. The  murder  of  an  unoffending  old  man,  like  Mr. 
Rogers,  is  nothing  to  them.  They  are  ready  for  any 
offense  or  crime,  however  degraded  or  bloody.  Xew 
York  has  never  experienced  the  full  effect  of  the  nur- 
ture of  these  youthful  ruffians  as  she  will  one  day. 
They  showed  their  hand  only  slightly  in  the  riots 
during  the  war.  At  present,  they  are  like  the  athletes 
and  gladiators  of  the  Eoman  demagogues.  They  are 
the  "roughs"  who  sustain  the  ward  politicians,  and 


28      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


frighten  honest  voters.  They  can  " repeat"  to  an 
unlimited  extent,  and  serve  their  employers.  They 
live  on  u  panem  et  tireensesf1  or  City-Hall  places  and 
pot-houses,  where  they  have  fall  credit. 
*  We  shall  speak  more  particularly  of  the  causes  of 
crime  in  future  chapters,  but  we  may  say  in  brief,  that 
the  young  ruffians  of  New  York  are  the  products  of 
accident,  ignorance,  and  vice.  Among  a  million  peo- 
ple, such  as  compose  the  population  of  this  city  and 
its  suburbs,  there  will  always  be  a  great  number  of 
misfortunes ;  fathers  die,  and  leave  their  children 
unprovided  for  5  parents  drink,  and  abuse  their  little 
ones,  and  they' float  away  on  the  currents  of  the 
street  5  step-mothers  or  step-fathers  drive  out,  by 
neglect  and  ill-treatment,   their  sons  from  home. 

Thousands  are  the  children  of  poor  foreigners,  who 

*   =» 

have  permitted  them  to  grow  up  without  school,  edu- 
cation, or  religion^  All  the  neglect  and  bad  education 
and  evil  example  of  a  poor  class  tend  to  form  others, 
who,  as  they  mature,  swell  the  ranks  of  ruffians  and 
criminals.  xSo,  at  length,  a  great  multitude  of  igno- 
rant, untrained,  passionate,  irreligious  boys  and  young 
men  are  formed,,  who  become. -the  "dangerous  class" 
of  our  city.  <;They  form  the  "  Mneteenth-street 
Gangs,"  the  young  burglars  and  murderers,  the  gar- 
roters  and  rioters,  the  thieves  and  flash -men,  the  "  re- 
peaters 79  and  ruffians,  so  well  known  to  all  who  know 
this  metropolis. 


AMERICAN  COMMUNISM. 


29 


THE  DANGERS. 

It  has  been  common,  since  the  recent  terrible  Com- 
munistic outbreak  in  Paris,  to  assume  that  France 
alone  is  exposed  to  such  horrors ;  but,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  one  who  has  been  familiar  with  our  u  danger- 
ous classes  79  for  twenty  years,  there  are  just  the  same 
explosive  social  elements  beneath  the  surface  of  New 
York  as  of  Paris. 

There  are  thousands  on  thousands  in  Xew  York 
who  have  no  assignable  home,  and  u  flit v  from  attic 
to  attic,  and  cellar  to  cellar ;  there  are  other  thou- 
sands more  or  less  connected  with  criminal  enter- 
prises 5  and  still  other  tens  of  thousands,  poor,  hard- 
pressed,  and  depending  for  daily  bread  on  the  day's 
earnings,  swarming  in  tenement-houses,  who  behold 
the  gilded  rewards  of  toil  all  about  them,  but  are 
never  permitted  to  touch  them. 

All  these  great  masses  of  destitute,  miserable,  and 
criminal  persons  believe  that  for  ages  the  rich  have 
had  all  the  good  things  of  life,  while  to  them  have 
been  left  the  evil  things.  Capital  to  them  is  the 
tyrant. 

Let  but  Law  lift  its  hand  from  them  for  a  season, 
or  let  the  civilizing  influences  of  American  life  fail  to 
reach  them,  and,  if  the  opportunity  offered,  we  should 
see  an,  explosion  from  this  class  which  might  leave 
this  city  in  ashes  and  blood. 

To  those  incredulous  of  this,  we  would  recall  the 


30     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

scenes  in  our  streets  during  the  riots  in  1863,  when, 
for  a  short  period,  the  guardians  of  good  order — the 
local  militia — had  been  withdrawn  for  national  pur- 
poses, and  when  the  ignorant  masses  were  excited  by 
dread  of  the  draft. 

Who  will  ever  forget  the  marvelous  rapidity  with 
which  the  better  streets  were  Med  with  a  ruffianly 
and  desperate  multitude,  such  as  in  ordinary  times 
we  seldom  see — creatures  who  seemed  to  have  crept 
from  their  burrows  and  dens  to  join  in  the  plunder  of 
the  city — how  quickly  certain  houses  were  marked  out 
for  sacking  and  ruin,  and  what  wild  and  brutal  crimes 
were  committed  on  the  unoffending  negroes  ?  It  will 
be  recalled,  too,  how  much  women  figured  in  these 
horrible  scenes,  as  they  did  in  the  Communistic  out- 
break in  Paris.  It  was  evident  to  all  careful  observers 
then,  that  had  another  day  of  license  been  given  the 
crowd,  the  attack  would  have  been  directed  at  the 
apparent  wealth  of  the  city — the  banks,  jewelers' 
shops,  and  rich  private  houses. 

£To  one  doubted  then,  or  during  the  Orange  riot 
of  1871,  the  existence  of  "  dangerous  classes  "  in  New 
York.  And  yet  the  separate  members  of  these  riotous 
and  ruffianly  masses  are  simply  neglected  and  street- 
wandering  children  who  have  come  to  early  manhood. 

The  true  preventive  of  social  catastrophes  like 
these,  are  just  such  Christian  reformatory  and  edu- 
cational movements  as  we  are  about  to  describe. 


THE  NUMBERS. 


31 


Of  the  number  of  the  distinctively  homeless  and 
vagrant  youth  in  New  York,  it  is  fliiBcfllt  ti  speak 
with  precision.  We  should  be  inclined  to  estimate  it, 
after  long  observation,  as  fluctuating  each  year  be- 
tween 20,000  and  30,000.*  But  tojhese,  as  they 
mature,  must  be  added,  in  the  composition  of  the 
dangerous  classes,  all  those  who  are  professionally 
criminal,  and  who  have  homes  and  lodging-places. 
And  again  to  these,  portions  of  that  vast  and  ignor- 
ant! multitude,  who,  in  prosperous  times,  just  keep 
their  heads  above  water,  who  are  pressed  down  by 
poverty  or  misfortune,  and  who  look  with  envy  and 
greed  at  the  signs  of  wealth  and  luxury  all  around 
them,  while  they  themselves  have  nothing  but  hard- 
ship, penury,  and  unceasing  drudgery. 

*  The  homeless  children  who  come  each  year  under  the 
charitable  efforts  afterwards  to  be  described  amount  to  some 
12,000. 

f  It  should  be  remembered  that  there  are  in  this  city  over 
60,000  persons  above  ten  years  of  age  who  cannot  write  their 
names. 


OHAPTEE  III. 

THE  CAUSES  OF  CRIME. 

The  great  practical  division  of  causes  of  crime 
may  be  made  into  preventible  and  non-preventible. 
Among  the  preventible,  or  those  which  can  be  in  good 
part  removed,  may  be  placed  ignorance,  intemperance, 
over-crowding  of  population,  want  of  work,  idleness, 
vagrancy,  the  weakness  of  the  marriage-tie,  and  bad 
legislation. 

Among  those  which  cannot  be  entirely  removed 
are  inheritance,  the  effects  of  emigration,  orphanage, 
accident  or  misfortune,  the  strength  of  the  sexual  and 
other  passions,  and  a  natural  weakness  of  moral  or 
mental  powers. 

IGNORANCE. 

There  needs  hardly  a  word  to  be  said  in  this  coun- 
try  on  the  intimate  connection  between  ignorance  and 
crime. 

The  precise  statistical  relation  between  them  in 
the  State  of  New  York  would  seem  to  be  this  :  about 
thirty-one  per  cent,  of  the  adult  criminals  cannot 
read  or  write,  while  of  the  adult  population  at  large 
about  six  (6.08)  per  cent,  are  illiterate;  or  nearly  one- 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  STREET  WAIF. 
(Second  Stage.) 


CRIME  AND  IGNORANCE. 


33 


third  of  the  crime  is  committed  by  six-hundredths  of 
the  population.  In  the  city  prisons  for  1870,  out  of 
49,423  criminals,  18,442  could  not  write  and  could 
barely  read,  or  more  than  thirty-three  per  cent. 

In  the  Eeformatories  of  the  country,  according  to 
the  statement  of  Dr.  Bittinger  before  the  National 
Congress  on  prison-discipline  at  Cincinnati,  out  of  the 
average  number  of  the  inmates  for  1868,  of  7,963 
twenty-seven  per  cent,  were  wholly  illiterate. 

Very  great  criminality  is,  of  course,  possible  with 
high  education;  but  in  the  immense  majority  of  cases 
a  very  small  degree  of  mental  training  or  intellectual 
tastes  is  a  preventive  of  idleness  and  consequent  crime 
and  of  extreme  poverty.  The  difference  between 
knowing  how  to  read  and  not  knowing  will  often  be 
the  line  between  utter  poverty  and  a  capacity  for 
various  occupations. 

Among  the  inmates  of  the  city  prisons  a  large  per- 
centage are  without  a  trade,  and  no  doubt  this  idle 
condition  is  largely  due  to  their  ignorance  and  is 
one  of  the  great  stimulants  to  their  criminal  course. 
Who  can  say  how  much  the  knowledge  of  Geography 
alone  may  stimulate  a  child  or  a  youth  to  emigrate, 
and  thus  leave  his  immediate  temptations  and  escape 
pressing  poverty  ? 

ORPHANAGE.  J 

Out  of  452  criminal  children  received  into  the 
House  of  Eefuge  in  New  York  during  1870,  only  187 


34     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  1STEW  YORK. 


had  both  parents  living,  so  that  nearly  sixty  per  cent, 
had  lost  one  or  both  of  their  parents,  or  were  other- 
wise separated  from  them. 

According  to  Dr.  Bittinger,*  of  the  7,963  inmates 
of  the  reformatories  in  the  United  States  in  1870, 
fifty-five  per  cent,  were  orphans  or  half  orphans. 

The  following  figures  strikingly  show  the  extent  to 
which  orphanage  and  inheritance  influence  the  moral 
condition  of  children. 

Mettrai,  the  celebrated  French  reformatory,  has 
received  since  its  foundation  3,580  youthful  inmates. 
Of  these,  there  are  707  whose  parents  are  convicts; 
308  whose  parents  live  in  concubinage;  534  "  natural" 
children;  221  foundlings;  504  children  of  a  second 
marriage ;  and  1,542  without  either  father  or  mother.f 

An  intelligent  French  writer,  M.  de  Marsangy,f 
in  writing  of  the  causes  of  juvenile  crime  in  France, 
says  that  "  a  fifth  of  those  who  have  been  the  objects 
of  judicial  pursuit  are  composed  of  orphans ;  the  half 
have  no  father,  a  quarter  no  mother,  and  as  for  those 
who  have  a  family,  nearly  all  are  dragged  by  it  into 
evil." 

EMIGRATION.  j 

There  is  no  question  that  the  breaking  of  the 
ties  with  one's  country  has  a  bad  moral  effect, 

*  Transactions  of  the  National  Congress,  p.  279. 

f  Une  visite  a  Mettray.    Paris,  1868. 

X  Moralisation  de  l'enfance  coupable,  p.  13. 


CRIME  AMONG  EMIGRANTS. 


35 


especially  on  a  laboring  class.  The  Emigrant  is 
released  from  the  social  inspection  and  judgment  to 
which  he  has  been  subjected  at  home,  and  the  tie 
of  church  and  priesthood  is  weakened.  If  a  Eoman 
Catholic,  he  is  often  a  worse  Catholic,  without  being 
a  better  Protestant.  If  a  Protestant,  he  often  becomes 
indifferent.  Moral  ties  are  loosened  with  the  religious. 
The  intervening  process  which  occurs  here,  between 
his  abandoning  the  old  state  of  things  and  fitting 
himself  to  the  new,  is  not  favorable  to  morals  or 
character. 

The  consequence  is,  that  an  immense  proportion 
of  our  ignorant  and  criminal  class  are  foreign-born ; 
and  of  the  dangerous  classes  here,  a  very  large  part, 
though  native-born,  are  of  foreign  parentage.  Thus, 
out  of  the  whole  number  of  foreigners  in  ]STew  York 
State,  in  1860,  16.69  per  cent,  could  not  read  or  write, 
while  of  the  native-born  only  1.83  per  cent,  were 
illiterate. 

Of  the  49,423  prisoners  in  our  city  prisons,  in 
prison  for  one  year  before  January,  1870,  32,225  were 
of  foreign  birth,  and,  no  doubt,  a  large  proportion  of 
the  remainder  of  foreign  parentage.  Of  the  foreign- 
born,  21,887  were  from  Ireland ;  and  yet  at  home  the 
Irish  are  one  of  the  most  law-abiding  and  virtuous  of 
populations — the  proportion  of  criminals  being  smaller 
than  in  England  or  Scotland. 

In  the  Eastern  Penitentiary  of  Pennsylvania,  ac- 


36      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


cording  to  Dr.  Bittinger,  from  one-fourth  to  one-third 
of  the  inmates  are  foreigners ;  in  Auburn,  from  a  third 
to  a  half  5  in  Clinton,  one-half ;  in  Sing  Sing,  between 
one-half  and  six-sevenths.  In  the  Albany  Peniten- 
tiary, the  aggregate  number  of  prisoners  during  the 
last  twenty  years  was  18,390,  of  whom  10,770  were 
foreign-born.* 

It  is  another  marked  instance  of  the  demoralizing 
influence  of  emigration,  that  so  large  a  proportion  of 
the  female  criminal  class  should  be  Irish-born,  though 
the  Irish  female  laboring  class  are  well  known  to  be 
at  home  one  of  the  most  virtuous  in  the  world. 

A  hopeful  fact,  however,  begins  to  appear  in  re- 
gard to  this  matter;  the  worst  effects  of  emigra- 
tion in  this  country  seem  over.  The  machinery  for  pro- 
tecting and  forwarding  the  newly-arrived  immigrants, 
so  that  they  may  escape  the  dangers  and  temptations 
of  the  city,  has  been  much  improved.  Yery  few,  com- 
paratively, now  remain  in  our  sea-ports  to  swell  the 
current  of  poverty  and  crime.  The  majority  find 
their  way  at  once  to  the  country  districts.  The 
quality,  too,  of  the  immigration  has  improved.  More 
well-to-do  farmers  and  peasantry,  with  small  savings, 
arrive  than  formerly,  and  the  preponderance,  as  to 
nationality,  is  inclining  to  the  Germans.  It  com- 
paratively seldom  happens  now  that  paupers  or  per- 
sons absolutely  without  means,  land  in  New  York. 
*  Transact,  of  Nat.  Cong.,  p.  282. 


CAUSES  OF  CRIME. 


37 


As  one  of  the  great  causes  of  crime.  Emigration 
will  undoubtedly  have  a  much  feebler  influence  in  the 
future  in  Xew  York  than  it  has  had  in  the  past. 

WANT  OF  A  TRADE. 

It  is  remarkable  how  often,  in  questioning  the 
youthful  convicts  in  our  prisons  as  to  the  causes  of 
their  downfall,  they  will  reply  that  "  if  they  had  had 
a  trade,  they  would  not  have  been  there."  They  dis- 
liked drudgery,  they  found  places  in  offices  and  shops 
crowded,-  they  would  have  enjoyed  the  companionship 
and  the  inventiveness  of  a  trade,  but  they  could  not 
obtain  one,  and  therefore  they  were  led  into  stealing 
or  gambling,  as  a  quick  mode  of  earning  a  living. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  a  lad  with  a  trade  feels  a 
peculiar  independence  of  the  world,  and  is  much  less 
likely  to  take  up  dishonest  means  of  living  than  one 
depending  on  manual  labor,  or  chance  means  of  living. 

There  is  nearly  always  a  demand  for  his  work; 
the  lad  feels  himself  a  member  of  a  craft  and  sup- 
ported by  the  consciousness  of  this  membership;  the 
means  of  the  "  Unions v  often  sustain  him  when  out 
of  employment  ;  his  associates  are  more  honest  and 
respectable  than  those  of  boys  depending  on  chance- 
labor,  and  so  he  is  preserved  from  falling  into  crime. 

Of  course,  if  such  a  lad  would  walk  forth  to  the 
nearest  country  village,  he  would  find  plenty  of 
healthy  and  remunerative  employment  in  the  ground, 


38      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

as  gardener  or  farmer.  And  to  a  country-lad,  the  farm 
offers  a  better  chance  than  a  trade.  But  many  city 
boys  and  young  men  will  not  consent  to  leave  the  ex- 
citements of  the  city,  so  that  the  want  of  a  mechanical 
occupation  does  expose  them  to  many  temptations. 

The  persons  most  responsible  for  this  state  of 
things  are  the  members  of  such  u  Unions  v  as  refuse 
to  employ  boys,  or  to  encourage  the  training  of  ap- 
prentices. It  is  well-known  that  in  many  trades  of 
New  York,  hardly  any  young  laborers  or  apprentices 
are  being  trained.  The  result  of  this  selfish  policy 
will  be  to  reduce  the  amount  of  skilled  labor  in  this 
city,  and  thus  compel  the  importation  of  foreign  labor, 
and  to  increase  juvenile  crime  and  the  burdens  on 
the  poor. 

Another  cause  of  this  increasing  separation  from 
trades  among  the  young  is,  no  doubt,  the  increasing 
aversion  of  American  children,  whether  poor  or  rich, 
to  learn  anything  thoroughly ;  the  boys  of  the  street, 
like  those  of  our  merchants,  preferring  to  make  for- 
tunes by  lucky  and  sudden  "  turns,"  rather  than  by 
patient  and  steady  industry. 

Our  hope  in  this  matter  is  in  the  steady  demand 
for  juvenile  labor  in  the  country  districts,  and  the 
substantial  rewards  which  await  industry  there. 


CHAPTEE  IV, 


THE   CAUSES   OF  CRIME. 
"WEAKNESS  OF  THE  MARKIAGE-TIE. 

It  is  extraordinary,  among  the  lowest  classes,  in 
how  large  a  number  of  cases  a  second  marriage,  or 
the  breaking  of  marriage,  is  the  immediate  cause  of 
crime  or  vagrancy  among  the  children.  When  ques- 
tioning a  homeless  boy  or  street-wandering  girl  as 
to  the  former  home,  it  is  extremely  common  to 
hear  "I  couldn't  get  on  with  my  step-mother/'  or 
"My  step-father  treated  me  badly,"  or  "My  father 
left,  and  we  just  took  care  of  ourselves.77  These  ap- 
parently exceptional  events  are  so  common  in  these 
classes  as  to  fairly  constitute  them  an  important 
cause  of  juvenile  crime.  When  one  remembers  the 
number  of  happy  second  marriages  within  one's  ac- 
quaintance, and  how  many  children  have  never  felt 
the  difference  between  their  step-mother  and  their 
own  mother,  and  what  love  and  patience  and  self- 
sacrifice  are  shown  by  parents  to  their  step-children, 
we  may  be  surprised  at  the  contrast  in  another  class 
of  the  community.  But  the  virtues  of  the  poor  spring 
very  much  from  their  affections  and  instincts;  they 


40      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

have  comparatively  little  self-control ;  the  high  les- 
sons of  duty  and  consideration  for  others  are  seldom 
stamped  on  them,  and  Beligion  does  not  much  influ- 
ence their  more  delicate  relations  with  those  associa- 
ted with  them.  They  might  shelter  a  strange  orphan 
for  years  with  the  greatest  kindness ;  but  the  bearing 
and  forbearing  with  the  faults  of  another  person's 
child  year  after  year,  merely  from  motives  of  duty  or 
affection  to  its  parent,  belong  to  a  higher  range  of 
Christian  virtues,  to  which  they  seldom  attain.  Their 
own  want  of  self-control  and  their  tendency  to  jeal- 
ousy, and  little  understanding  of  true  self-sacrifice, 
combine  to  weaken  and  embitter  these  relations  with 
step-children.  The  children  themselves  have  plenty 
of  faults,  and  have  doubtless  been  little  governed,  so 
that  soon  both  parties  jar  and  rub  against  one  an- 
other; and  as  neither  have  instincts  or  affections  to 
fall  back  upon,  mere  principle  or  sense  of  duty  is 
not  enough  to  restrain  them.  What  would  be  simply 
slights  or  jars  in  more  controlled  persons,  become  col- 
lisions in  this  class. 

Bitter  quarrels  spring  up  between  step-son  and 
mother,  or  step-daughter  and  father;  the  other  pa- 
rent sometimes  sides  with  the  child,  sometimes  with 
the  father ;  but  the  result  is  similar.  The  house  be- 
comes a  kind  of  pandemonium,  and  the  girls  rush 
desperately  forth  to  the  wild  life  of  the  streets,  or  the 
boys  gradually  prefer  the  roaming  existence  of  the 


a  FREE  LOVE."  41 

little  city- Arab  to  such  a  quarrelsome  home.  Thus 
it  happens  that  step-children  among  the  poor  are  so 
often  criminals  or  outcasts. 

It  needs  a  number  of  years  among  the  lower  work- 
ing-classes to  understand  what  a  force  public  opinion 
is  in  all  classes  in  keeping  the  marriage-bond  sacred, 
and  what  sweeping  misfortunes  follow  its  violation. 
Many  of  the  Irish  peasants  who  have  landed  here 
have  married  from  pure  affection.  Their  marriage 
has  been  consecrated  by  the  most  solemn  ceremonies 
of  their  church.  They  come  of  a  people  peculiarly 
faithful  to  the  marriage-tie,  and  whose  religion  has 
especially  guarded  female  purity  and  the  fidelity  of 
husband  and  wife.  At  home,  in  their  native  villages, 
they  would  have  died  sooner  than  break  the  bond  or 
leave  their  wives.  The  social  atmosphere  about  them 
and  the  influence  of  the  priests  make  such  an  act 
almost  impossible.  And  yet  in  this  distant  country, 
away  from  their  neighbors  and  their  religious  in- 
structors, they  are  continually  making  a  practical 
test  of  u  Free-Love v  doctrines.  As  the  wife  grows 
old  or  ugly — as  children  increase  and  weigh  the  pa- 
rents down— as  the  home  becomes  more  noisy  and 
less  pleasant, — the  man  begins  to  forget  the  vows 
made  at  the  altar,  and  the  blooming  girl  he  then 
took ;  and,  perhaps  meeting  some  prettier  woman,  or 
hearing  of  some  chance  for  work  at  a  distance,  he 
slips  quietly  away,  and  the  deserted  wife,  who  seems 


42      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

to  love  him  the  more  the  more  false  he  is,  is  left 
alone.  For  a  time  she  has  faith  in  him  and  seeks 
him  far  and  near  5  but  at  length  she  abandons  hope, 
and  begins  the  heavy  straggle  of  maintaining  her  lit- 
tle family  herself.  The  boys  gradually  get  beyond 
her  control ;  they  are  kept  in  the  street  to  earn  some- 
thing for  their  support;  they  become  wild  and  va- 
grant, and  soon  end  with  being  street-rovers,  or  petty 
thieves,  or  young  criminals.  The  girls  are  trained  in 
begging  or  peddling,  and,  meeting  with  bold  company, 
they  gradually  learn  the  manners  and  morals  of  the 
streets,  and  after  a  while  abandon  the  wretched  home, 
and  break  what  was  left  of  the  poor  mother's  hope 
and  courage,  by  beginning  a  life  of  shame. 

This  sad  history  is  lived  out  every  day  in  New 
York.  If  any  theorists  desire  to  see  what  fruits 
"  Free  Love v  or  a  weak  marriage-bond  can  bear 
among  the  lowest  working-classes,  they  have  only  to 
trace  the  histories  of  great  numbers  of  the  young 
thieves  and  outcasts  and  prostitutes  in  this  city. 
With  the  dangerous  classes,  " elective  affinities'7  are 
most  honestly  followed.  The  results  are  suffering, 
crime,  want,  and  degradation  to  those  who  are 
innocent. 

/ 

IKHEEITANCE. 

A  most  powerful  and  continual  source  of  crime 
with  the  young  is  Inheritance — the  transmitted  tend- 


INHERITANCE. 


43 


encies  and  qualities  of  their  parents,  or  of  several 
generations  of  ancestors. 

It  is  well-known  to  those  familiar  with  the  criminal 
classes,  that  certain  appetites  or  habits,  if  indulged 
abnormally  and  excessively  through  two  or  more 
generations,  come  to  have  an  almost  irresistible  force, 
and,  no  doubt,  modify  the  brain  so  as  to  constitute 
almost  an  insane  condition.  This  is  especially  true 
of  the  appetite  for  liquor  and  of  the  sexual  passion, 
and  sometimes  of  the  peculiar  weakness,  dependence, 
and  laziness  which  make  confirmed  paupers. 

The  writer  knows  of  an  instance  in  an  almshouse  in 
Western  New  York,  where  four  generations  of  females 
were  paupers  and  prostitutes.  Almost  every  reader 
who  is  familiar  with  village  life  will  recall  poor  fami- 
lies which  have  had  dissolute  or  criminal  members 
beyond  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant,  and  who 
still  continue  to  breed  such  characters.  I  have  known 
a  child  of  nine  or  ten  years,  given  up,  apparently  be- 
yond control,  to  licentious  habits  and  desires,  and  who 
in  all  different  circumstances  seemed  to  show  the  same 
tendencies ;  her  mother  had  been  of  similar  character, 
and  quite  likely  her  grandmother.  The  u  gemmules," 
or  latent  tendencies,  or  forces,  or  cells  of  her  imme- 
diate ancestors  were  in  her  system,  and  working  in 
her  blood,  producing  irresistible  effects  on  her  brain, 
nerves,  and  mental  emotions,  and  finally,  not  being 
met  early  enough  by  other  moral,  mental,  and  physi- 


44      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

cal  influences,  they  have  modified  her  organization, 
until  her  will  is  scarcely  able  to  control  them  and  she 
gives  herself  up  to  them.  All  those  who  instruct  or 
govern  "  Houses  of  Befuge,"  or  "  Reform  Schools,"  or 
Asylums  for  criminal  children  and  youths,  will  recall 
many  such  instances. 

They  are  much  better  known  in  the  Old  World  than 
this ;  they  are  far  more  common  here  in  the  country 
than  in  the  city. 

My  own  experience  during  twenty  years  has  been 
in  this  regard  singularly  hopeful.  I  have  watched 
great  numbers  of  degraded  families  in  New  York,  and 
exceedingly  few  of  them  have  transmitted  new  gen- 
erations of  paupers,  criminals,  or  vagrants. 

The  causes  of  this  encouraging  state  of  things  are 
not  obscure.  The  action  of  the  great  law  of  "Natural 
Selection,"  in  regard  to  the  human  race,  is  always 
towards  temperance  and  virtue.  That  is,  vice  and 
extreme  indulgence  weaken  the  physical  powers  and 
undermine  the  constitution ;  they  impair  the  faculties 
by  which  man  struggles  with  adverse  conditions  and 
gets  beyond  the  reach  of  poverty  and  want.  The 
vicious  and  sensual  and  drunken  die  earlier,  or  they 
have  fewer  children,  or  their  children  are  carried  off 
by  diseases  more  frequently,  or  they  themselves  are 
unable  to  resist  or  prevent  poverty  and  suffering.  As 
a  consequence,  in  the  lowest  class,  the  more  self-  con- 
trolled and  virtuous  tend  constantly  to  survive,  and 


NATURAL  SELECTION." 


45 


to  prevail  in  u  the  struggle  for  existence,'7  over  the 
tlie  vicious  and  ungoverned,  and  to  transmit  their 
progeny.  The  natural  drift  among  the  poor  is  towards 
virtue.  Probably  no  vicious  organization  with  very 
extreme  and  abnormal  tendencies  is  transmitted 
beyond  the  fourth  generation ;  it  ends  in  insanity  or 
cretinism  or  the  wildest  crime. 

The  result  is  then,  with  the  worst-endowed  families, 
that  the  "  gemmules,"  or  latent  forces  of  hundreds  of 
virtuous,  or  at  least,  not  vicious,  generations,  lie  hid 
in  their  constitutions.  The  immediate  influences  of 
parents  or  grandparents  are,  of  course,  the  strongest 
in  inheritance ;  but  these  may  be  overcome,  and  the 
latent  tendencies  to  good,  coming  down  from  remote 
ancestors,  be  aroused  and  developed. 

Thus  is  explained  the  extraordinary  improvement 
of  the  children  of  crime  and  poverty  in  our  Industrial 
Schools ;  and  the  reforms  and  happy  changes  seen  in 
the  boys  and  girls  of  our  dangerous  classes  when  placed 
in  kind  Western  homes.  The  change  of  circumstances, 
the  improved  food,  the  daily  moral  and  mental  in- 
fluences, the  effect  of  regular  labor  and  discipline,  and, 
above  all,  the  power  of  Eeligion,  awaken  these  hidden 
tendencies  to  good,  both  those  coming  from  many 
generations  of  comparative  virtue  and  those  inherent 
in  the  soul,  while  they  control  and  weaken  and  cause 
to  be  forgotten  those  diseased  appetites  or  extreme 
passions  which  these  unfortunate  creatures  inherit 


46     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


directly,  and  substitute  a  higher  moral  sense  for  the 
low  moral  instincts  which  they  obtained  from  their 
parents.  So  it  happens,  also,  that  American  life,  as 
compared  with  European,  and  city  life,  as  compared 
with  country,  produces  similar  results.  In  the  United 
States,  a  boundless  hope  pervades  all  classes;  it 
reaches  down  to  the  outcast  and  vagrant.  There  is 
no  fixity,  as  is  so  often  the  fact  in  Europe,  from  the 
sense  of  despair.  Every  individual,  at  least  till  he  is 
old,  hopes  and  expects  to  rise  out  of  his  condition. 

The  daughter  of  the  rag-picker  or  vagrant  sees  the 
children  she  knows,  continually  dressing  better  or 
associating  with  more  decent  people;  she  beholds 
them  attending  the  public  schools  and  improving  in 
education  and  manners;  she  comes  in  contact  with 
the  greatest  force  the  poor  know — public  opinion, 
which  requires  a  certain  decency  and  respectability 
among  themselves.  She  becomes  ashamed  of  her 
squalid,  ragged,  or  drunken  mother.  She  enters  an 
Industrial  School,  or  creeps  into  a  Ward  School,  or 
"goes  out"  as  a  servant.  In  every  place,  she  feels 
the  profound  forces  of  American  life;  the  desire  of 
equality,  ambition  to  rise,  the  sense  of  self-respect  and 
the  passion  for  education. 

These  new  desires  overcome  the  low  appetites  in 
her  blood,  and  she  continually  rises  and  improves.  If 
Religion  in  any  form  reach  her,  she  attains  a  still 
greater  height  over  the  sensual  and  filthy  ways  of  her 


ADVANTAGE  OF  CHANGE. 


47 


parents.  She  is  in  no  danger  of  sexual  degradation, 
or  of,  any  extreme  vice.  The  poison  in  her  blood  has 
found  an  antidote.  When  she  marries,  it  will  inevita- 
bly be  with  a  class  above  her  own.  This  process  goes 
on  continually  throughout  the  country,  and  breaks  up 
criminal  inheritance. 

Moreover,  the  incessant  change  of  our  people,  espe- 
cially in  cities,  the  separation  of  children  from  parents, 
of  brothers  from  sisters,  and  of  all  from  their  former 
localities,  destroy  that  continuity  of  influence  which 
bad  parents  and  grandparents  exert,  and  do  away 
with  those  neighborhoods  of  crime  and  pauperism 
where  vice  concentrates  and  transmits  itself  with  ever- 
increasing  power.  The  fact  that  tenants  must  forever 
be  u  moving"  in  New  York,  is  a  preventive  of  some  of 
the  worst  evils  among  the  lower  poor.  The  mill  of 
American  life,  which  grinds  up  so  many  delicate  and 
fragile  things,  has  its  uses,  when  it  is  turned  on  the 
vicious  fragments  of  the  lower  strata  of  society. 

Villages,  which  are  more  stable  and  conserv- 
ative, and  tend  to  keep  families  together  more 
and  in  the  same  neighborhoods,  show  more  in- 
stances of  inherited  and  concentrated  wickedness 
and  idleness.  In  New  York  the  families  are  con- 
stantly broken  up;  some  members  improve,  some 
die  out,  but  they  do  not  transmit  a  progeny  of 
crime.  There  is  little  inherited  criminality  and  pau- 
perism. 


48     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OE  NEW  YORK. 


A  QUESTION. 

Among  these  public  influences  on  the  young,  it  has 
been  often  a  question  with  some,  whether  the  Public 
Schools  did  not  educate  the  daughters  of  the  poor  too 
much,  and  thus  make  them  discontented  with  their 
condition,  and  exposed  to  temptation. 

It  is  said  that  these  working-girls,  seeing  such  fine 
dresses  about  them,  and  learning  many  useless  accom- 
plishments, have  become  indifferent  to  steady  hand- 
labor,  and  have  sought  in  vice  for  the  luxuries  which 
they  have  first  learned  to  know  in  the  public  schools. 
My  own  observation,  however,  leads  me  to  doubt 
whether  this  occurs,  unless  as  an  exceptional  fact. 
The  influence  of  discipline  and  regular  instruction  is 
against  the  style  of  character  which  makes  the  prosti- 
tute. Where  there  is  a  habit  of  work,  there  are  seldom 
the  laziness  and  shiftlessness  which  especially  cause  or 
stimulate  sexual  vice.  Some  working-girls  do,  no 
doubt,  become  discontented  with  their  former  condi- 
tion, and  some  rise  to  a  much  higher,  while  some  fall ; 
but  this  happens  everywhere  in  the  United  States,  and 
is  not  to  be  traced  especially  to  the  influence  of  our 
Free  Schools. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  greater  tendency  of  large 
cities,  as  compared  with  villages,  in  breaking  up  vicious 
families.  There  is  another  advantage  of  cities  in  this 
matter.  The  especial  virtue  of  a  village  community 
is  the  self-respect  and  personal  independence  of  its 


VILLAGKE  PARIAHS. 


49 


members.  No  benefits  of  charity  or  benevolent  assist- 
ance and  dependence  could  ever  outweigh  this.  But 
this  very  virtue  tends  to  keep  a  wicked  or  idle  family 
in  its  present  condition.  The  neighbors  are  not  in  the 
habit  of  interfering  with  it ;  no  one  advises  or  warns 
it.  The  children  grow  up  as  other  people's  children  do, 
in  the  way  the  parents  prefer ;  there  is  no  machinery 
of  charity  to  lift  them  out  of  the  slime ;  and  if  any  of 
their  wealthier  neighbors,  from  motives  of  benevolence, 
visited  the  house,  and  attempted  to  improve  or  edu- 
cate the  family,  the  effort  would  be  resented  or  mis- 
construed. The  whole  family  become  a  kind  of  pa- 
riahs; they  are  morally  tabooed,  and  grow  up  in  a 
vicious  atmosphere  of  their  own,  and  really  come  out 
much  worse  than  a  similar  family  in  the  city.  This 
phenomenon  is  only  a  natural  effect  of  the  best  virtues 
of  the  rural  community. 

In  a  large  town,  on  the  other  hand,  there  exist  ma- 
chinery and  organization  through  which  benevolent 
and  religious  persons  can  approach  such  families,  and 
their  good  intentions  not  be  suspected  or  resented. 
The  poor  people  themselves  are  not  so  independent, 
and  accept  advice  or  warning  more  readily ;  they  are 
not  so  stamped  in  public  repute  with  a  bad  name ; 
less  is  known  of  them,  and  the  children,  under  new 
influences,  break  off  from  the  vicious  career  of  their  pa- 
rents, and  grow  up  as  honest  and  industrious  persons. 

Moreover,  the  existence  of  so  much  charitable  organi- 
3 


50      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

zation  in  the  cities  brings  the  best  talent  and  charac- 
ter of  the  fortunate  classes  to  bear  directly  on  the 
unfortunate,  far  more  than  is  the  fact  in  villages. 


OHAPTEE  V. 
THE  CAUSES  OF  CRIME. 
OVER-CROWT>rNX>. 

The  source  of  juvenile  crime  and  misery  in  New 
York,  which  is  the  most  formidable,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  one  of  the  most  difficult  to  remove,  is  the  over- 
crowding of  our  population.  The  form  of  the  city-site 
is  such — the  majority  of  the  dwellings  being  crowded 
into  a  narrow  island  between  two  water-fronts— that 
space  near  the  business-portion  of  the  city  becomes 
of  great  value.  These  districts  are  necessarily 
sought  for  by  the  laboring  and  mechanic  classes,  as 
they  are  near  the  places  of  employment.  They  are 
avoided  by  the  wealthy  on  account  of  the  population 
which  has  already  occupied  so  much  of  them.  The 
result  is,  that  the  poor  must  live  in  certain  wards; 
and  as  space  is  costly,  the  landlords  supply  them 
with  (comparatively)  cheap  dwellings,  by  building 
very  high  and  large  houses,  in  which  great  numbers 
of  people  rent  only  rooms,  instead  of  dwellings. 

Were  New  York  a  city  radiating  from  a  centre 
over  an  almost  unlimited  space — as  Philadelphia,  for 
instance — the  laborers  or  the  mechanics  might  take 


52     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


up  their  abode  anywhere,  and  land  would  be  com- 
paratively cheap,  so  that  the  highest  blessing  of  the 
laboring  class  would  be  attainable — -of  separate  homes 
for  each  family.  But,  on  this  narrow  island,  busi- 
ness is  so  peculiarly  concentrated,  and  population 
is  so  much  forced  to  one  exit — towards  the  north — 
and  the  poor  have  such  a  singular  objection  to  living 
beyond  a  ferry,  that  space  will  inevitably  continue 
very  dear  in  New  York,  and  the  laboring  classes  will 
be  compelled  to  occupy  it. 

To  add  to  the  unavoidable  costliness  of  ground- 
room  on  this  island,  has  come  in  the  effect  of  bad 
government. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  unpleasant  experiences  of  the 
student  of  political  economy,  that  the  axioms  of  his 
science  can  so  seldom  be  understood  by  the  masses, 
though  their  interests  be  vitally  affected  by  them. 
Thus,  every  thoughtful  man  knows  that  each  new 
"job"  among  city  officials,  each  act  of  plunder  of 
public  property  by  members  of  the  municipal  govern- 
ment, every  loss  of  income  or  mal-appropriation  or 
extravagance  in  the  city's  funds,  must  be  paid  for  by 
taxation,  and  that  taxation  always  falls  heaviest  on 
labor.  The  laboring  classes  of  the  city  rule  it,  and 
through  their  especial  leaders  are  the  great  public 
losses  and  wastefulness  occasioned. 

Yet  they  never  know  that  they  themselves  con- 
tinually pay  for  these  in  increased  rents.  Every  land- 


TAXES  PAID  IN  RENT. 


53 


lord  charges  his  advanced  taxation  in  rent,  and  prob- 
ably a  profit  on  that.  The  tenant  pays  more  for  his 
room,  the  grocer  more  for  his  shop,  the  butcher  and 
tailor  and  shoemaker,  and  every  retailer  have  heavier 
expenses  from  the  advance  in  rents,  and  each  and  all 
charge  it  on  their  customers.  The  poor  feel  the  final 
pressure.  The  painful  effect  has  been,  that  the 
expense  for  rent  has  arisen  enormously  with  the 
laboring  classes  of  this  city  during  the  last  five  years, 
while  many  of  the  other  living  expenses  have  nearly 
returned  to  the  standard  before  the  war. 

The  influence  of  high  rents  is  to  force  more  people 
into  a  given  space,  in  order  to  economize  and  divide 
expense. 

The  latest  trustworthy  statistics  on  this  important 
subject  are  from  the  excellent  Reports  of  the  Metro- 
politan Board  of  Health  for  1866.  From  these,  it 
appears  that  the  Eleventh  Ward  of  this  city,  with  a 
population  of  58,953,  has  a  rate  of  population  of 
196,510  to  the  square  mile,  or  16  TV  square  yards  to 
*  each  person;  the  Tenth  Ward,  with  31,587  population, 
has  a  rate  of  185,512  to  the  square  mile,  or  17fff 
square  yards  to  each ;  the  Seventeenth  Ward,  with 
79,563,  has  the  rate  of  153,006 ;  the  Fourteenth,  with 
23,382,  has  a  rate  of  155,880 ;  the  Thirteenth,  with 
26j3SSy  has  155,224 ;  and  so  on  with  others,  though  in 
less  proportion. 

The  worst  districts  in  London  do  not  at  all  equal 


54     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


this  crowding  of  population.  Thus,  East  London 
shows  the  rate  of  175,816  to  the  square  mile;  the 
Strand,  141,556;  St.  Luke's,  151,104;  Holborn,  148,705; 
and  St.  James's,  Westminster,  144,008. 

If  particular  districts  of  our  city  be  taken,  they 
present  an  even  greater  massing  of  human  beings 
than  the  above  averages  have  shown.  Thus,  accord- 
ing to  the  Eeport  of  the  Council  of  Hygiene  in  1865, 
the  tenant-house  and  cellar  population  of  the  Fourth 
Ward  numbered  17,611  packed  in  buildings  over  a 
space  less  than  thirty  acres,  exclusive  of  streets, 
which  would  make  the  fearful  rate  of  290,000  to  the 
square  mile. 

In  the  Seventeenth  Ward,  the  Board  of  Health 
reports  that  in  1868,  4,120  houses  contained  95,091 
inhabitants,  of  whom  14,016  were  children  under  five 
years.  In  the  same  report,  the  number  of  tenement- 
houses  for  the  whole  city  is  given  at  18,582,  with  an 
estimate  of  one-half  the  whole  population  dwelling  in 
them— say  500,000. 

We  quote  an  extract  from  a  report  of  Mr.  Dupuy, 
Visitor  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society  of  the  First 
Ward,  describing  the  condition  of  a  tenement-house : 

u  What  do  you  think  of  the  moral  atmosphere  of 
the  home  I  am  about  to  describe  below  I  ^  To  such  a 
home  two  of  our  boys  return  nightly. 

"  In  a  dark  cellar  filled  with  smoke,  there  sleep, 
all  in  one  room,  with  no  kind  of  partition  dividing 


A  TENEMENT-HOUSE. 


55 


them,  two  men  with  their  wives,  a  girl  of  thirteen  or 
fourteen,  two  men  and  a  large  boy  of  about  seventeen 
years  of  age,  a  mother  with  two  more  boys,  one  about 
ten  years  old,  and  one  large  boy  of  fifteen ;  another 
woman  with  two  boys,  nine  and  eleven  years  of  age — 
in  all,  fourteen  persons. 

u  This  room  I  have  often  visited,  and  the  number 
enumerated  probably  falls  below,  rather  than  above 
the  average  that  sleep  there." 

It  need  not  be  said  that  with  overcrowding  such  as 
this,  there  is  always  disease,  and  as  naturally,  crime. 
The  privacy  of  a  home  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most 
favorable  conditions  to  virtue,  especially  in  a  girl. 

If  a  female  child  be  born  and  brought  up  in  a 
room  of  one  of  these  tenement-houses,  she  loses  very 
early  the  modesty  which  is  the  great  shield  of  purity. 
Personal  delicacy  becomes  almost  unknown  to  her. 
Living,  sleeping,  and  doing  her  work  in  the  same 
apartment  with  men  and  boys  of  various  ages,  it  is 
well-nigh  impossible  for  her  to  retain  any  feminine 
reserve,  and  she  passes  almost  unconsciously  the  line 
of  purity  at  a  very  early  age. 

In  these  dens  of  crowded  humanity,  too,  other  and 
more  unnatural  crimes  are  committed  among  those  of 
the  same  blood  and  family. 

Here,  too,  congregate  some  of  the  worst  of  the  desti- 
tute population  of  the  city — vagrants,  beggars,  nonde- 
script thieves,  broken-down  drunken  vagabonds,  who 


56      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

manage  as  yet  to  keep  out  of  the  station-houses,  and  the 
lowest  and  most  bungling  of  the  "  sharper s."  Natur- 
ally, the  boys  growing  up  in  such  places  become,  as 
by  a  law  of  nature,  petty  thieves,  pick-pockets,  street- 
rovers,  beggars,  and  burglars.  Their  only  salvation 
is,  that  these  dens  become  so  filthy  and  haunted  with 
vermin,  that  the  lads  themselves  leave  them  in  dis- 
gust, preferring  the  barges  on  the  breezy  docks,  or 
the  boxes  on  the  side-walk,  from  which  eventually 
they  are  drawn  into  the  neat  and  comfortable  Boys' 
Lodging-houses,  and  there  find  themselves  impercep- 
tibly changed  into  honest  and  decent  boys.  This  is 
the  story  of  thousands  every  year. 

The  cellar-population  alone  of  this  city  is  a  source 
of  incessant  disease  and  crime. 

And  with  the  more  respectable  class  of  poor  who 
occupy  the  better  kind  of  tenement-houses,  the  pack- 
ing of  human  beings  in  those  great  caravansaries  is 
one  of  the  worst  evils  of  this  city.  It  sows  pestilence 
and  breeds  every  species  of  criminal  habits. 

From  the  eighteen  thousand  tenement-houses  comes 
seventy-three  per  cent.*  of  the  mortality  of  our  popu- 
lation, and  we  have  little  doubt  as  much  as  ninety  per 
cent,  of  the  offenses  against  property  and  person. 

*  In  1865,  the  deaths  in  tenement-houses  were  14,500  out  of 
19,813,  the  total  for  the  city. 

The  death-rate  has,  however,  been  brought  down  by  sanitary 
improvements  from  76  per  cent.,  in  1866,  to  about  66  per  cent,  in 
1871,  or  a  gain  of  2,900  lives  in  these  wretched  houses. 


EFFECT  ON  MORALS. 


57 


Over-crowding  is  the  one  great  misfortune  of  New 
York.  Without  it,  we  should  be  tl^e  healthiest  large 
city  in  the  world,*  and  a  great  proportion  of  the  crimes 
which  disgrace  our  civilization  would  he  nipped  in 
the  bud.  While  this  continues  as  it  does  now,  there 
is  no  possibility  of  a  thorough  sanitary,  moral,  and 
religious  reform  in  our  worst  wards. 

Few  girls  can  grow  up  to  maturity  in  such  dens  as 
exist  in  the  First,  Sixth,  Eleventh,  and  Seventeenth 
Wards  and  be  virtuous;  few  boys  can  have  such 
places  as  homes  and  not  be  thieves  and  vagabonds. 
In  such  places  typhus  and  cholera  will  always  be 
rife,  and  the  death-rate  will  reach  its  most  terrible 
maximum.  While  the  poorest  population  dwell  in 
these  cellars  and  crowded  attics,  neither  Sunday- 
schools,  nor  churches,  nor  charities,  can  accomplish  a 
thorough  reform. 

What,  then,  is  to  be  done  to  remedy  this  terrible 
evil? 

Experience  has  proved  that  our  remedial  agencies 
can,  in  individual  cases  cure  even  the  evils  resulting 
from  this  unnatural  condensing  of  population.  That 

*  Our  annual  death-rate  is  now  28.79  per  1,000,  while  some 
of  the  clean  wards  show  15  per  1,000,  or  about  the  rate  of  the 
Isle  of  Wight. 

The  rate  of  London  is  about  24,  Liverpool  has  been  as  high 
as  40,  but  is  more  healthy  now,  owing  to  sanitary  improvements. 
Our  Sixth  Ward  reaches  43,  and  "  Gotham  Court,"  in  Cherry 
Street,  attains  the  horrible  maximum  of  195  per  1,0.00. 


58     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

is,  we  can  point  to  thousands  of  lads  and  young  girls 
who  were  born  and  reared  in  such  crowded  dens  of 
humanity,  but  who  have  been  transformed  into  vir- 
tuous, well-behaved,  and  industrious  young  men  and 
women,  by  the  quiet  daily  influence  of  the  charitable 
organization  I  am  about  to  describe. 

Still,  these  cases  of  reform  are,  in  truth,  exceptions. 
The  natural  and  legitimate  influence  of  such  massing 
of  population  is  all  in  the  direction  of  immorality  and 
degeneracy.  Whatever  would  lessen  that,  would  at 
once,  and  by  a  necessary  law,  diminish  crime  and 
poverty  and  disease. 

REMEDIES. 

The  great  remedies  are  to  be  looked  for  in  broad, 
general  provisions  for  distributing  population.  Thus 
far,  the  means  of  communication  between  business 
New  York  and  the  suburbs  have  been  singularly 
defective.  An  underground  railway  with  cheap 
workman's  trains,  or  elevated  railways  with  similar 
conveniences,  connecting  Westchester  County  and 
the  lower  part  of  the  city,  or  suburbs  laid  out  in  New 
Jersey  or  on  Long  Island  expressly  for  working 
people,  with  cheap  connections  with  New  York  and 
Brooklyn,  would  soon  make  a  vast  difference  in  the 
concentration  of  population  in  our  lower  wards.  It  is 
true  that  English  experience  would  show  that  labor- 
ing-men, after  a  heavy  day's  work,  cannot  bear  the 
jar  of  railway  traveling.    There  must  be,  however, 


HOMES  FOB  LABORERS. 


59 


many  varieties  of  labor — such  as  worjk  in  factories 
and  the  like — where  a  little  movement  in  a  railroad- 
train  at  the  close  of  a  day  would  be  a  refreshment. 

Then,  as  the  laboring  class  was  concentrated  in  sub- 
urban districts,  the  various  occupations  which  attend 
them,  such  as  grocers,  shoemakers,  tailors,  and  others, 
would  follow,  and  be  established  near  them.  Many 
nationalities  among  our  working  class  have  an  espe- 
cial fondness  for  gardens  and  bits  of  land  about  their 
houses.  This  would  be  an  additional  attraction  to 
such  settlements ;  and  with  easy  and  cheap  communi- 
cations we  might  soon  have  tens  of  thousands  of  our 
laborers  and  mechanics  settled  in  pleasant  and  healthy 
little  suburban  villages,  each,  perhaps  having  his  own 
small  house  and  garden,  and  the  children  growing  up 
under  far  better  influences,  moral  and  physical,  than 
they  could  possibly  enjoy  in  tenement-houses.  There 
are  many  districts  within  half  an  hour  of  New  York, 
where  such  plots  could  be  laid  out  with  lots  at  $500 
each,  which  would  pay  a  handsome  profit  to  the  owner, 
or  where  a  cottage  could  be  let  with  advantage  for  the 
present  rent  of  a  tenement  attic. 

Improved  communications  have  already  removed 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  the  middle  class  from  the 
city  to  all  the  surrounding  neighborhood,  to  the 
immense  benefit  both  of  themselves  and  their  fami- 
lies. Equal  conveniences  suited  to  the  wants  of  the 
laboring  class  will  koon  cause  multitudes  of  these  to 


60      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


live  in  the  suburban  districts.  The  obstacle,  however, 
as  in  all  efforts  at  improvement  for  the  working  peo- 
ple, is  in  their  own  ignorance  and  timidity,  and  their 
love-of  the  crowd  and  bustle  of  a  city. 

More  remote  even,  than  relief  by  improved  com- 
munications, is  a  possible  check  to  high  rents  by  a 
better  government.  A  cheap  and  honest  government 
of  the  masses  in  New  York  would  at  once  lower  tax- 
ation and  bring  down  rents.  The  enormous  prices 
demanded  for  one  or  two  small  rooms  in  a  tenement- 
house  are  a  measure  (in  part)  of  the  cost  of  our  city 
.government. 

Another  alleviation  to  our  over  crowding  has  often 
been  proposed,  but  never  vigorously  acted  upon,  as  we 
are  persuaded  it  might  be,  and  that  is,  the  making  the 
link  between  the  demand  for  labor  in  our  country  dis- 
tricts and  the  supply  in  New  York,  closer.  The  sue 
cess  of  the  charity  which  we  are  about  describing  in 
the  transfer  of  destitute  and  homeless  children  to 
homes  in  the  West,  and  of  the  Commissioners  of  Emi- 
gration in  their  "  Labor  Exchange,"  indicate  what 
might  be  accomplished  by  a  grand  organized  move- 
ment for  transferring  our  unemployed  labor  to  the 
fields  of  the  West.  It  is  true,  this  would  not  carry 
away  our  poorest  class,  yet  it  would  relieve  the  press- 
ure of  population  here  on  space,  and  thus  give  more 
room  and  occupation  for  all. 

But  admitting  that  we  cannot  entirely  prevent  the 


LAWS  NEEDED.  / 


61 


enormous  massing  of  people,  such  as  prevails  in  our 
Eleventh  and  Seventeenth  Wards,  we  can  certainly 
control  it  by  legislation.  The  recent  Sanitary  Acts  of 
New  York  attempt  to  hold  in  check  the  mode  of  build- 
ing tenement-houses,  requiring  certain  means  of  ven- 
tilation and  exit,  forbidding  the  filling-up  of  the 
entire  space  between  the  houses  with  dwellings,  and 
otherwise  seeking  to  improve  the  condition  of  such 
tenement-houses. 

There  only  needs  two  steps  farther  in  imitation  of 
the  British  Lodging-house  Acts — one  removing  alto- 
gether the  cellar-population,  when  under  certain  un- 
healthy conditions ;  and  the  other  limiting  by  law  the 
the  number  who  can  occupy  a  given  space  in  a  tene- 
ment-room. The  British  Acts  assign  240  cubic  feet  as 
the  lowest  space  admissible  for  each  tenant  or  lodger, 
and  if  the  inspector  finds  less  space  than  that  occu- 
pied, he  at  once  enters  a  complaint,  and  the  owner  or 
landlord  is  obliged  to  reduce  the  number  of  his  occu- 
pants, under  strict  penalties.  A  provision  of  this  na- 
ture in  our  New  York  law  would  break  up  our  worst 
dens,  and  scatter  thej^i  tenants  or  lodgers.  The 
removal  of  the  cellar-population  from  a  large  propor- 
tion of  their  dwellings  should  also  be  made.  Liver- 
pool removed  20,000  cellar-occupants  in  one  year 
(1847),  to  the  immense  gain,  both  moral  and  sanitary, 
of  the  city.  New  York  needs  the  reform  quite  as  much. 
There  would  be  no  real  hardship  in  such  a  measure, 


62      THE  DANGKEROTTS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOUK. 

as  the  tenants  could  find  accommodations  in  other 
parts  of  the  city  or  the  suburbs ;  and  some  would  per- 
haps emigrate  to  the  country. 

One  often-proposed  remedy  for  the  ills  of  our 
tenant-house  system — the  u  Model  Lodging-house  " — 
has  never  been  fairly  tried  here.  The  theory  of  this 
agency  of  reform  is,  that  if  a  tenement-house  can  be 
constructed  on  the  best  sanitary  principles,  with  good 
ventilation,  with  limited  number  of  tenants,  no  over- 
crowding, and  certain  important  conveniences  to  the 
lodgers,  all  under  moral  supervision  (so  that  tenants 
of  notoriously  bad  character  are  excluded),  and  such 
a  house  can  be  shown  to  pay,  say  seven  per  cent,  net, 
this  will  become  a  " model"  to  the  builders  of  tene- 
ment-houses ;  some  building  after  the  same  style,  be- 
cause public  opinion  and  their  own  conscience  require 
it,  others  because  competition  compels  it.  Thus,  in 
time,  the  mode  of  structure  and  occupancy  of  all  the 
new  tenement-houses  would  be  changed.  But  to  attain 
this  desirable  end,  the  model  houses  must  first  pay  a 
profit,  and  a  fair  one.  So  long  as  they  do  not  succeed 
in  this,  they  are  a  failure,  however  benevolent  their 
object  and  comfortable  their  arrangements.  In  this 
point  of  view,  the  "  Waterloo  Houses,"  in  London, 
are  a  success,  and  do  undoubtedly  influence  the  mode 
of  building  and  management  of  private  tenement- 
houses;  in  this,  also,  the  "Peabody  Houses"  are  not 
a  success,  and  will  have  no  permanent  influence. 


f 

MODEL  LOD(HNG-HOTJSES.  63 

The  Model  Houses  in  London  for  lodging  single 
men  have,  as  the  writer  has  witnessed,  changed  and 
elevated  the  whole  class  of  similar  private  lodging- 
houses. 

The  experiment  ought  to  be  tried  here,  on  a  merely 
business  basis,  by  some  of  our  wealthy  men.  The  evil 
of  crowded  tenement-houses  might  be  immensely  alle- 
viated by  such  a  remedy. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

THE  CAUSES  OF  CRIME. 
INTEMPERANCE. 

The  power  of  the  appetite  for  alcoholic  stimulus  is 
something  amazing.  A  laboring-man  feels  it  especial- 
ly, on  account  of  the  drag  on  his  nervous  system  of 
steady  and  monotonous  labor,  and  because  of  the  few 
mental  stimuli  which  he  enjoys.  He  returns  to  his 
tenement-house  after  a  hard  day's  work,  u  dragged 
out77  and  craving  excitement  5  his  rooms  are  disagree- 
able; perhaps  his  wife  cross,  or  slatternly,  and  his 
children  noisy;  he  has  an  intense  desire  for  some- 
thing which  can  take  him  out  of  all  this,  and  cause 
his  dull  surroundings  and  his  fatigue  to  be  forgotten. 
Alcohol  does  this ;  moreover,  he  can  bear  alcohol  and 
tobacco,  to  retard  the  waste  of  muscle,  as  the  seden- 
tary man  cannot.  In  a  few  steps,  he  can  find  jolly 
companions,  a  lighted  and  warmed  room,  a  newspa- 
per, and,  above  all,  a  draught  which,  for  the  moment, 
can  change  poverty  to  riches,  and  drive  care  and  la- 
bor and  the  thought  of  all  his  burdens  and  annoy- 
ances far  away. 

The  liquor-shop  is  his  picture-gallery,  club,  reading- 


TEE  FORTUNES  OF  A  STREET  WAIF. 

(Third  Stage.) 


THE  "MAGIC  CUP." 


05 


room,  and  social  salon,  at  once.  His  glass  is  tlie 
magic  transmuter  of  care  to  cheerfulness,  of  penury 
to  plenty,  of  a  low,  ignorant,  worried  life,  to  an  exist- 
ence for  the  moment  buoyant,  contented,  and  hopeful. 
Alas  that  the  magician  who  thus,  for  the  instant, 
transforms  him  with  her  rod,  soon  returns  him  to  his 
low  estate,  with  ten  thousand  curses  haunting  him! 
The  one  thus  touched  by  the  modern  Circe  is  not 
even  imbruted,  for  the  brutes  have  no  such  appetite ; 
he  becomes  a  demonized  man ;  all  the  treasures  of  life 
are  trampled  under  his  feet,  and  he  is  fit  only  to  dwell 
u  among  the  tombs."  But,  while  labor  is  what  it  is, 
and  the  liquor-shop  alone  offers  sociality  and  amuse- 
ment to  the  poor,  alcohol  will  still  possess  this  over- 
whelming attraction.  The  results  in  this  climate, 
and  under  the  form  of  alcoholic  stimulus  offered  here, 
are  terrible  beyond  all  computation.  The  drunkards' 
homes  are  the  darkest  spots  even  in  the  abyss  of  mis- 
ery in  every  large  city.  Here  the  hearts  of  young 
women  are  truly  broken,  and  they  seek  their  only 
consolation  in  the  same  magic  cup  ;  here  children  are 
beaten,  or  maimed,  or  half-starved,  until  they  run 
away  to  join  the  great  throng  of  homeless  street-rov- 
ers in  our  large  towns,  and  grow  up  to  infest  society. 
From  these  homes  radiate  misery,  grief,  and  crime. 
They  are  the  nests  in  which  the  young  fledgelings  of 
misfortune  and  vice  begin  their  flight.  Probably  two- 
thirds  of  the  crimes  of  every  city  (and  a  very  large 


•66      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

portion  of  its  poverty)  come  from  the  over-indulgence 
of  this  appetite.  As  an  appetite,  we  do  not  believe  it 
can  ever  be  eradicated  from  the  human  race. 

If  we  look  at  criminal  statistics  for  the  effects  of 
this  appetite,  we  will  find  that  in  the  New  York  City 
prisons,  during  1870,  there  were,  out  of  49,423  crimi- 
nals, 30,507  of  confessedly  intemperate  habits,  while 
no  doubt,  with  a  large  portion  of  the  rest,  indulgence 
in  liquor  was  the  cause  of  their  offenses. 

In  the  Albany  Penitentiary  there  were,  in  1869-70, 
1,093  convicts,  of  whom  893  admitted  they  were  in- 
temperate. Of  this  whole  number  only  563  could 
read  and  write,  and  only  568  were  natives  of  this 
country. 

Among  the  children  of  misfortune  in  our  city,  the 
homeless  boys  and  girls,  and  those  compelled  by  pov- 
erty to  attend  the  Industrial  Schools  (which  I  shall 
hereafter  describe),  it  would  be  safe  to  say  that  ninety 
out  of  a  hundred  are  the  children  of  drunkards. 

As  a  direct  cause  of  crime  in  children,  drunkenness 
takes  but  a  small  place.  This  is  not  an  appetite  of 
childhood.  Yery  few  boys  or  girls  of  the  poorest  class 
are  addicted  to  it  till  they  become  mature. 

The  effort  for  Total  Abstinence  has  been,  indeed, 
an  untold  blessing  to  the  working  class  in  this  country 
and  many  parts  of  Europe.  It  may  be  said,  in  many 
regions,  to  have  broken  the  wand  of  the  terrible  en- 
chantress.  It  has  introduced  a  new  social  habit  in 


TOTAL  ABSTINENCE. 


G7 


drinking.  It  has  connected  abstinence  with  the  cere- 
monial of  religion  and  the  pleasures  of  social  organiz- 
ations. It  has  addressed  the  working-man — as,  in 
fact,  he  often  is — as  a  child,  and  saved  him  from  his 
own  habits,  by  a  sworn  abstinence.  Thousands  of 
men  could  never  have  freed  themselves  from  this 
most  tyrannical  appetite,  except  by  absolute  refusal 
to  touch.  In  fact,  it  may  be  said  that  no  vice  is  ever 
abandoned  by  gradual  steps.  The  only  hope  for  any 
one  under  the  control  of  any  wrong  indulgence  is  in 
entire  and  immediate  abandonment. 

With  those,  too,  who  had  not  fallen  under  the 
sway  of  this  appetite,  especially  if  of  the  working 
class,  abstinence  was  the  safest  rule. 

The  "  Total  Abstinence  Beform"  in  this  country, 
in  Great  Britain,  and  in  Sweden,  was  one  of  the  hap- 
piest events  that  ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  the 
working  classes.  Its  blessings  will  descend  through 
many  generations.  But  in  its  nature  it  could  not  last. 
It  was  a  tremendous  reaction  against  the  heavy  and 
excessive  drinking  of  fifty  years  since.  It  was  a  kind 
of  noble  asceticism.  Like  all  asceticism,  it  could  not 
continue  as  a  permanent  condition.  Its  power  is  now 
much  spent.  Wherever  it  can  be  introduced  now 
among  the  laboring  classes,  it  should  be ;  and  we  be- 
lieve one  of  the  especial  services  of  the  Irish  Catholic 
clergy,  at  this  day,  to  the  world,  is  in  supporting  and 
encouraging  this  great  reform. 


68     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


All  who  study  the  lower  classes  are  beginning, 
however,  now  to  look  for  other  remedies  of  the  evil  of 
intemperance. 

It  has  become  remarkably  apparent,  during  the 
last  few  years,  that  one  of  the  best  modes  of  driving 
out  low  tastes  in  the  masses  is  to  introduce  higher. 
It  has  been  found  that  galleries  and  museums  and 
parks  are  the  most  formidable  rivals  of  the  liquor- 
shops.  The  experience  near  the  Sydenham  Palace,  in 
England,  and  other  places  of  instructive  and  pleasant 
resort  for  the  laboring  masses,  is,  that  drinking-saloons 
do  not  flourish  in  opposition.  Wherever,  in  the  even- 
ing, a  laboring-man  can  saunter  in  a  pleasant  park, 
or,  in  company  with  his  wife  and  family,  look  at  in- 
teresting pictures,  or  sculpture,  or  objects  of  curiosity, 
he  has  not  such  a  craving  for  alcoholic  stimulus. 

Even  open-air  drinking  in  a  garden — as  is  so  com- 
mon on  the  Continent — is  never  so  excessive  as  in  an 
artificial-lighted  room.  Where,  too,  a  working-man 
can,  in  a  few  steps,  find  a  cheerfully-lighted  reading- 
room,  with  society  or  papers,  or  where  a  club  is  easily 
open  to  him  without  drinking,  it  will  also  be  found 
that  he  ceases  to  frequent  the  saloon,  and  almost  loses 
his  taste  for  strong  drink. 

Whatever  elevates  the  taste  of  the  laborer,  or  ex- 
pands his  mind,  or  innocently  amuses  him,  or  passes 
his  time  pleasantly  without  indulgence,  or  agreeably 
instructs,  or  provides  him  with  virtuous  associations, 


TEMPERANCE  MOVEMENTS. 


69 


tends  at  once  to  guard  him  from  habits  of  intoxication. 
The  Kensington  Museum  and  Sydenham  Palace, 
of  London ;  the  Cooper  Union,  the  Central  Park,  and 
free  Keading-rooins  of  New  York,  are  all  temperance- 
societies  of  the  best  kind.  The  great  effort  now  is  to 
bring  this  class  of  influences  to  bear  on  the  habits  of 
tlie  laboring-people,  and  thus  diminish  intemperance. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  in  this  connection,  that, 
though  ninety  out  of  the  hundred  of  our  children  in 
the  Industrial  Schools  are  the  children  of  drunkards, 
not  one  of  the  thousands  who  have  gone  forth  from 
them  has  been  known  to  have  fallen  into  intemperate 
habits.  Under  the  elevating  influences  of  the  school, 
they  imperceptibly  grow  out  of  the  habits  of  their 
mothers  and  fathers,  and  never  acquire  the  appetite. 

Another  matter,  which  is  well  worthy  of  the  atten- 
tion of  reformers,  is  the  possibility  of  introducing  into 
those  countries  where  66  heavy  drinking v  prevails,  the 
taste  for  light  wines  and  the  habit  of  open-air  drink- 
ing. The  passion  for  alcohol  is  a  real  one.  On  a  broad 
scale  it  cannot  be  annihilated.  Can  we  not  satisfy  it 
innocently  ?  In  this  country,  for  instance,  light  wines 
can  be  made  to  a  vast  extent,  and  finally  be  sold  very 
cheaply.  If  the  taste  for  them  were  formed,  would  it 
not  expel  the  appetite  for  whisky  and  brandy,  or  at 
least,  in  the  coming  generation,  form  a  new  habit  ? 

There  is,  it  is  true,  a  peculiar  intensity  in  the  Amer- 
ican temperament  which  makes  the  taking  of  concen- 


70      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

trated  stimulus  natural  to  it.  It  will  need  some  time 
for  men  accustomed  to  work  up  their  nervous  system 
to  a  white  heat  by  repeated  draughts  of  whisky  or 
brandy  to  be  content  with  weak  wines.  Perhaps  the 
present  generation  never  will  be.  But  the  laws  of 
health  and  morality  are  so  manifestly  on  the  side  of 
drinking  light  wines  as  compared  with  drinking  heavy 
liquors  ?  that  any  effort  at  •social  improvement  in  this 
direction  would  have  a  fair  chance  of  success.  Even 
the  slight  change  of  habit  involved  in  drinking  leis- 
urely at  a  table  in  the  open  air  with  women  and  chil- 
dren— after  the  German  fashion — would  be  a  great 
social  reform  over  the  hasty  bar-drinking,  while  stand- 
ing. The  worst  intoxication  of  this  City  is  with  the 
Irish  and  American  bar-drinkers,  not  the  German  fre- 
quenters of  gardens. 

LIQUOR  LAWS. 

In  regard  to  legislation  it  seems  to  me  that  our 
Kew  York  License  laws  of  1866  were,  with  a  few  im- 
provements, a  very  u  happy  medium v  hi  law-making. 
The  ground  was  tacitly  taken,  in  that  code,  that  it 
subserved  the  general  interests  of  morality  to  keep 
one  day  free  from  riotous  or  public  drinking,  and 
allow  the  majority  of  the  community  to  spend  it  in 
rest  and  worship ;  and,  inasmuch  as  that  day  was  one 
of  especial  temptation  to  the  working-classes,  they 
were  to  be  treated  to  a  certain  degree  like  minors, 
and  liquor  was  to  be  refused  to  them  on  it.  Un- 


LICENSES. 


71 


der  this  law,  also,  minors  and  apprentices,  on  week- 
days, were  forbidden  to  be  supplied  with  intoxicating 
drinks,  and  the  liquor-shops  were  closed  at  certain 
hours  of  the  night.  Very  properly,  also,  these  sellers 
of  intoxicating  beverages,  making  enormous  profits, 
and  costing  the  community  immensely  in  the  expenses 
of  crime  occasioned  by  their  trade,  were  heavily  taxed, 
and  paid  to  the  city  over  a  million  dollars  annually  in 
fees,  licenses,  and  fines.  The  effects  of  the  law  were 
admirable,  in  the  diminution  of  cases  of  arrest  and 
crime  on  the  Sunday,  and  the  checking  of  the  ravages 
of  intoxication. 

But  it  was  always  apparent  to  the  writer  that, 
with  the  peculiar  constitution  of  the  population  of  this 
city,  it  could  not  be  sustained,  unless  concessions 
were  made  to  the  prejudices  and  habits  of  certain 
nationalities  among  our  citizens.  Our  reformers, 
however,  as  a  class,  are  exceedingly  adverse  to  con- 
cessions 5  they  look  at  questions  of  habits  as  absolute 
questions  of  right  and  wrong,  and  they  will  permit 
no  half-way  or  medium  ground.  But  legislation  is 
always  a  matter  of  concession  We  cannot  make  laws 
for  human  nature  as  it  ought  to  be,  but  as  it  is.  If 
we  do  not  get  the  absolutely  best  law  passed,  we  must 
content  ourselves  with  the  medium  best.  If  our 
Temperance  Reformers  had  permitted  a  clause  in  the 
law,  excepting  the  drinking  in  gardens,  or  of  lager- 
beer,  from  the  restrictions  of  the  License  Law,  we 


72      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK.  * 

should  not,  indeed,  have  had  so  good  a  state  of  things 
as  we  had  for  a  few  years,  under  the  old  law,  but  we 
might  have  had  it  permanently.  Now,  we  have  nearly 
lost  all  control  over  drinking,  and  the  Sunday  orgies 
and  crimes  will  apparently  renew  themselves  without 
check  or  restraint.  If  a  reform  in  legislation  claim 
too  much,  there  is  always  a  severe  reaction  possible, 
when  the  final  effects  will  be  worse  than  the  evils 
sought  to  be  corrected. 

The  true  plan  of  reform  for  this  city  would  be  to 
cause  the  License  Law  of  1866  to  be  re-enacted  with 
certain  amendments.  The  u  intoxicating  drinks " 
mentioned  should  be  held  not  to  include  lager-beer  or 
certain  light  wines $  and  garden-drinking  might  be 
permitted,  under  strict  police  surveillance. 

The  Excise  Board  should  be  allowed  very  summary 
control,  however,  even  over  the  German  gardens  and 
lager-beer  drinking-places,  so  that,  if  they  were  per- 
verted into  places  of  disturbance  and  intoxication,  the 
licenses  could  be  revoked. 

By  separating  absolutely  the  licenses  for  light 
drinks  and  those  for  rum,  whisky,  and  heavy  ales,  a 
vast  deal  of  drunkenness  might  be  prevented,  and 
yet  the  foreign  habits  not  be  too  much  interfered 
with,  and  comparatively  innocent  pleasures  permitted. 

In  small  towns  and  villages,  a  reasonable  com- 
promise would  seem  to  be  to  allow  each  municipality 
to  control  the  matter  in  the  mode  it  preferred:  some 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  STREET  WAIF. 

(Fourth  Stage.) 


INTEMPERANCE. 


73 


communities  in  this  way,  forbidding  all  sale  of  intoxi- 
cating liquors,  and  others  permitting  it,  under  condi- 
tions; but  each  being  responsible  for  the  evils  or 
benefits  of  the  system  it  adopted. 

If  a  student  of  history  were  reviewing  the  gloomy 
list  of  the  evils  which  have  most  cursed  mankind, 
which  have  wasted  households,  stained  the  hand  of 
man  with  his  fellow's  blood,  sown  quarrels  and 
hatreds,  broken  women's  hearts,  and  ruined  children 
in  their  earliest  years,  bred  poverty  and  crime,  he 
would  place  next  to  the  bloody  name  of  War,  the 
black  word — Intemperance.  2So  wonder  that  the 
best  minds  of  modern  times  are  considering  most 
seriously  the  soundest  means  of  checking  it.  If  absti- 
nence were  the  natural  and  only  means,  the  noble  soul 
would  still  say,  in  the  words  of  Paul:  "It  is  good 
neither  to  eat  flesh,  nor  to  drink  wine,  nor  anything 
whereby  thy  brother  stumbleth." 

But  abstinence  is  not  thoroughly  natural ;  it  has 
no  chance  of  a  universal  acceptance ;  and  experience 
shows  that  other  and  wider  means  must  be  employed. 
We  must  trust  to  the  imperceptible  and  widely- 
extended  influences  of  civilization,  of  higher  tastes, 
and  more  refined  amusements  on  the  masses.  We 
must  employ  the  powers  of  education,  and,  above  all, 
the  boundless  force  of  Eeligion,  to  elevate  the  race 
above  the  tyranny  of  this  tremendous  appetite. 

4 


OHAPTEE  VII. 


ORGANIZATION  OF  A  REMEDY. 

In  New  York,  we  believe  almost  alone  among  the 
great  capitals  of  the  world,  a  profound  and  sustained 
effort  for  many  years  has  been  made  to  cut  off  the 
sources  and  diminish  the  numbers  of  the  dangerous 
classes;  and,  as  the  records  of  crime  show,  with  a 
marked  effect. 

In  most  large  cities,  the  first  practical  difficulty  is 
the  want  of  a  united  organization  to  work  upon  the 
evils  connected  with  this  lowest  class.  There  are  too 
many  scattered  efforts,  aiming  in  a  desultory  manner 
at  this  and  that  particular  evil,  resulting  from  the  con- 
dition of  the  children  of  the  streets.  There  is  no 
unity  of  plan  and  of  work.  Every  large  city  should 
form  one  Association  or  organization,  whose  sole  ob- 
ject should  be  to  deal  alone  with  the  sufferings,  wants, 
and  crimes,  arising  from  a  class  of  youth  who  are 
homeless,  ignorant,  or  neglected.  The  injuries  to  pub- 
lic morals  and  property  from  such  a  class  are  impor- 
tant enough  to  call  out  the  best  thought  and  utmost 
energy  and  inventiveness  of  charitable  men  and  women 
to  prevent  them.  Where  an  association  devotes  itself 


NEED  OF  ORGANIZATION. 


75 


thus  to  one  great  public  evil,  a  thousand  remedies  or 
ingenious  devices  of  cure  and  prevention  will  be  hit 
upon,  when,  with  a  more  miscellaneous  field  of  work, 
the  best  methods  would  be  overlooked.  So  threaten- 
ing is  the  danger  in  every  populous  town  from  the 
children  who  are  neglected,  that  the  best  talent  ought 
to  be  engaged  to  study  their  condition  and  devise 
their  improvement,  and  the  highest  character  and  most 
ample  means  should  be  offered  to  guarantee  and  make 
permanent  the  movements  devised  for  their  elevation. 

The  lack  of  all  this  in  many  European  capitals  is 
a  reason  that  so  little,  comparatively,  has  been  done 
to  meet  these  tremendous  dangers. 

Then,  again,  in  religious  communities,  such  as  the 
English  and  American,  there  is  too  great  a  confidence 
in  tecJmical  religious  means. 

We  would  not  breathe  a  word  against  the  absolute 
necessity  of  Christianity  in  any  scheme  of  thorough 
social  reform.  If  the  Christian  Church  has  one  gar- 
land on  its  altars  which  time  does,  not  wither  nor  skep- 
ticism destroy,  which  is  fresh  and  beautiful  each  year, 
it  is  that  humble  offering  laid  there  through  every  age 
by  the  neglected  little  ones  of  society,  whom  the  most 
enlightened  Stoicism  despised  and  Paganism  cast  out, 
but  who  have  been  blessed  and  saved  by  its  ministra- 
tions of  love.  No  skeptical  doubt  or  u  rationalism" 
can  ever  pluck  from  the  Christian  Church  this,  its 
purest  crown. 


76     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


To  attempt  to  prevent  or  cure  the  fearful  moral 
diseases  of  our  lowest  classes  without  Christianity,  is 
like  trying  to  carry  through  a  sanitary  reform  in  a 
city  without  sunlight. 

But  the  mistake  we  refer  to,  is  a  too  great  use  of, 
or  confidence  in,  the  old  technical  methods — such  as 
distributing  tracts,  and  holding  prayer-meetings,  and 
scattering  Bibles.  The  neglected  and  ruffian  class 
which  we  are  considering  are  in  no  way  affected 
directly  by  such  influences  as  these.  New  methods 
must  be  invented  for  them. 

Another  obstacle,  in  American  cities,  to  any  com- 
prehensive results  of  reform  or  prevention  among 
these  classes,  has  been  the  too  blind  following  of  Eu- 
ropean precedents.  In  Europe,  the  labor-market  is 
folly  supplied.  There  is  a  steady  pressure  of  popula- 
tion on  subsistence.  USTo  general  method  of  prevention 
or  charity  can  be  attempted  which  interferes  with  the 
rights  of  honest  and  self-supporting  labor.  The  vic- 
tims of  society,  the  unfortunate,  the  enfants  perdus, 
must  be  retained,  when  aided  at  all,  in  public  institu- 
tions. They  cannot  be  allowed  to  compete  with  out- 
side industry.  They  are  not  wanted  in  the  general 
market  of  labor.   They  must  be  kept  in  Asylums. 

Now,  Asylums  are  a  bequest  of  monastic  days. 
They  breed  a  species  of  character  which  is  monastic — 
indolent,  unused  to  struggle  5  subordinate  indeed, 
but  with  little  independence  and  manly  vigor.  If 


PIONEER  WORK. 


77 


the  subjects  of  the  modern  monastery  be  unfortu- 
nates— especially  if  they  be  already  somewhat  tainted 
with  vice  and  crime — the  effect  is  a  weakening  of 
true  masculine  vigor,  an  increase  of  the  apparent  vir- 
tues, and  a  hidden  growth  of  secret  and  contagious 
vices.  Moreover,  the  life  under  the  machinery  of  an 
"Institution"  does  not  prepare  for  the  thousand  petty 
hand-labors  of  a  poor  man's  cottage.  But,  greatest 
of  all  objections,  the  asylum  system  is,  of  necessity, 
immensely  expensive,  and  can  reach  but  a  compara- 
tively small  number  of  subjects. 

These  various  obstacles  and  difficulties,  which  im- 
pede thorough  work  for  the  elevation  #6f  our  worst 
classes,  can,  however,  be  overcome. 

PIOMER  WORK. 

Some  twenty  years  ago,  the  then  Chief  of  Police 
of  New  York,  Captain  Matsell,  put  forth  a  report  on 
the  condition  of  the  street-children  of  the  city,  which 
aroused  universal  anxiety,  and  called  forth  much  com- 
passion. The  writer  of  this  was  then  engaged  (in  1852) 
outside  of  his  professional  duties  in  rather  desultory 
and  despairing  labors  for  the  reform  of  adult  prisoners 
on  BlackwelVs  Island  and  the  squalid  poor  in  the  Five- 
Points  district.  It  was  a  Sisyphus-like  work,  and 
soon  discouraged  all  engaged  in  it.  We  seemed  in 
those  infernal  regions  to  repeat  the  toil  of  the  Da- 
naides,  and  to  be  attempting  to  fill  the  leaky  vessel 


78      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


of  society  by  efforts  which  left  it  as  empty  as  before. 
What  soon  struck  all  engaged  in  those  labors  was  the 
immense  number  of  boys  and  girls  floating  and  drift- 
ing about  our  streets,  with  hardly  any  assignable 
home  or  occupation,  who  continually  swelled  the  mul- 
titude of  criminals,  prostitutes,  and  vagrants. 

Saddest  of  all  sights  was  the  thin  child's  face,  so 
often  seen  behind  prison-bars,  and  the  melancholy  pro- 
cession of  little  children  who  were  continually  passing 
through  that  gloomy  Egyptian  portal,  which  seemed  to 
some  of  us  then  always  inscribed  with  the  scroll  over  the 
entrance  of  the  Inferno,  "Here  leave  all  hope  behind V7 

It  was  evident  soon,  to  all  who  thought  upon  the 
subject,  that  what  New  York  most  of  all  needed  was 
some  grand,  comprehensive  effort  to  check  the  growth 
of  the  "  dangerous  classes." 

The  u  Social  Evil,"  of  course,  was  pressed  contin- 
ually on  the  minds  of  those  engaged  in  these  labors. 
Mr.  Pease  was  then  making  a  most  heroic  effort  to 
meet  this  in  its  worst  form  in  the  Five-Points  region. 
No  one  whom  we  have  ever  known  was  so  qualified  for 
this  desperate  work,  or  was  so  successful  in  it.  Still, 
it  was  but  one  man  against  a  sea  of  crime.  The  waves 
soon  rolled  over  these  enthusiastic  and  devoted  labors, 
and  the  waste  of  misfortune  and  guilt  remained  as 
desolate  and  hopeless  as  before.  It  was  clear  that 
whatever  was  done  there,  must  be  done  in  the  source 
and  origin  of  the  evil — in  prevention,  not  cure. 


READINESS  FOR  THE  WORK. 


79 


The  impression  deepened  both  with  those  engaged  in 
these  benevolent  labors  and  with  the  community,  that 
a  general  Organization  should  be  formed  which  should 
deal  alone  with  the  evils  and  dangers  threatened  from 
the  class  of  neglected  youth  then  first  coming  plainly 
into  public  view.  Those  who  possessed  property- 
interests  in  the  city  saw  the  immense  loss  and  damage 
which  would  occur  from  such  an  increasing  com- 
munity of  young  thieves  and  criminals.  The  humane 
felt  for  the  little  waifs  of  society  who  thus,  through 
no  fault  of  their  own,  were  cast  out  on  the  currents 
of  a  large  city ;  and  the  religious  recognized  it  as  a 
solemn  duty  to  carry  the  good  news  of  Christianity  to 
these  u  heathen  at  home."  Everything  seemed  in 
readiness  for  some  comprehensive  and  well-laid 
scheme  of  benevolence  and  education  for  the  street- 
children  of  New  York. 

A  number  of  our  citizens,  with  the  present  writer 
threw  themselves  into  a  somewhat  original  method 
for  benefiting  the  young  "roughs"  and  vagabond 
boys  of  the  metropolis.  This  was  known  as  the  effort 
of  the 

"BOYS'  MEETINGS." 

The  theory  of  these  original  assemblages  was,  that 
the  " sympathy  of  an  audience"  might  be  used  to 
influence  these  wild  and  untutored  young  Arabs 
when  ordinary  agencies  were  of  no  avail.  The  street- 
boys,  as  is  well-known,  are  exceedingly  sharp  and 


80      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

keen,  and,  being  accustomed  to  theatrical  perform- 
ances, are  easily  touched  by  real  oratory,  and  by 
dramatic  instruction ;  but  they  are  also  restless,  soon 
tired  of  long  exhortations,  and  somewhat  given  to  chaff. 

The  early  days  of  those  u  Boys'  Meetings v  were 
stormy.  Sometimes  the  salutatory  exercises  from  the 
street  were  showers  of  stones ;  sometimes  a  general 
scrimmage  occurred  oyer  the  benches;  again,  the 
visitors  or  missionaries  were  pelted  by  some  opposi- 
tion-gang, or  bitter  enemies  of  the  lads  who  attended 
the  meeting.  The  exercises,  too,  must  be  conducted 
with  much  tact,  or  they  broke  up  with  a  laugh  or  in  a 
row.  The  platform  of  the  Boys'  Meeting  seemed  to 
become  a  kind  of  chemical  test  of  the  gaseous  element 
in  the  brethren's  brains.  One  pungent  criticism  we 
remember — -on  a  pious  and  somewhat  sentimental 
Sunday-school  brother,  who,  in  one  of  our  meetings, 
had  been  putting  forth  vague  and  declamatory  reli- 
gious exhortation — in  the  words  u  Gas  !  gets  I  "  whis- 
pered with  infinite  contempt  from  one  hard-faced 
young  disciple  to  another.  Unhappy,  too,  was  the 
experience  of  any  more  daring  missionary  who  ven- 
tured to  question  these  youthful  inquirers. 

Thus — "  In  this  parable,  my  dear  boys,  of  the 
Pharisee  and  the  publican,  what  is  meant  by  the 
6  publican  !>» 

u  Alderman,  sir,  wot  keeps  a  pot-house ! "  u  Dimo- 
crat,  sir ! v  u  Black  Eepublican,  sir ! " 


REPARTEES. 


81 


Or — "My  bo*ys,  what  is  the  great  end  of  man? 
When  is  he  happiest?  How  would  you  feel  hap- 
piest?" 

"  When  we'd  plenty  of  hard  cash,  sir ! " 

Or — "  My  dear  boys,  when  your  father  and  your 
mother  forsake  you,  who  will  take  you  up  ?  " 

u  The  Purlice,  sir  (very  seriously),  the  Purlice ! " 

They  sometimes  took  their  own  quiet  revenge 
among  themselves,  in  imitating  the  Sunday-school 
addresses  delivered  to  them. 

Still,  ungoverned,  prematurely  sharp,  and  accus- 
tomed to  all  vileness,  as  these  lads  were,  words  which 
came  forth  from  the  depths  of  a  man's  or  woman's 
heart  would  always  touch  some  hidden  chord  in 
theirs.  Pathos  and  eloquence  vibrated  on  their  heart- 
strings as  with  any  other  audience.  Beneath  all  their 
rough  habits  and  rude  words  was  concealed  the 
solemn  monitor,  the  Daimon,  which  ever  whispers  to 
the  lowest  of  human  creatures,  that  some  things  are 
wrong — are  not  to  be  done. 

Whenever  the  speaker  could,  for  a  moment  only, 
open  the  hearts  of  the  little  street-rovers  to  this  voice, 
there  was  in  the  wild  audience  a  silence  almost  pain- 
ful, and  every  one  instinctively  felt,  with  awe,  a  mys- 
terious Presence  in  the  humble  room,  which  blessed 
both  those  who  spake  and  those  who  heard. 

Whatever  was  bold,  or  practical,  or  heroic  in  senti- 
ment, and  especially  the  dramatic  in  oratory,  was 


82     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

most  intently  listened  to  by  these  children  of  mis- 
fortune. 

The  Boys'  Meetings,  however,  were  not,  and  could 
not,  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  a  permanent  success. 
They  were  the  pioneer- work  for  more  profound  labors 
for  this  class.  They  cleared  the  way,  and  showed  the 
character  of  the  materials.  Those  engaged  in  them 
learned  the  fearful  nature  of  the  evils  they  were 
struggling  with,  and  how  little  any  moral  influence  on 
one  day  can  do  to  combat  them.  These  wild  gather- 
ings, like  meetings  for  street-preaching,  do  not  seem 
suited  to  the  habits  of  our  population ;  they  are  too 
much  an  occasion  for  frolic.  They  have  given  way  to, 
and  been  merged  in,  much  more  disciplined  assem- 
blages for  precisely  the  same  class,  which  again  are 
only  one  step  in  a  long  series  of  moral  efforts  in  their 
behalf,  that  are  in  operation  each  day  of  every  week 
and  month,  and  extend  through  years. 

The  first  of  these  meetings  was  opened  in  1848, 
under  the  charge  of  Mr.  A.  D.  F.  Randolph  by  the 
members  of  a  Presbyterian  church,  in  a  hall  on  the 
corner  of  Christopher  and  Hudson  Streets.  This  was 
followed  by  another  in  a  subsequent  year  in  Wooster 
Street,  commenced  by  the  indefatigable  exertions  of 
the  wife  of  Eev.  Dr.  GL  B.  Cheever,  and  sustained 
especially  by  Mr.  B.  J.  Howland  and  W.  C.  Russell. 

The  writer  took  more  or  less  part  in  those,  but  was 
especially  engaged  in  founding  one  in  Sixth  Street, 


BOYS'  MEETINGS. 


83 


near  Second  Avenue ;  another  in  118  Avenue  D,  from 
which,  arose  the  "  Wilson  School ?;  and  the  Avenue  D 
Mission;  one  in  King  Street,  near  Hudson,  from 
which  came  the  Cottage-Place  Mission ;  and  another 
in  Greenwich  Street,  near  Yandam  Street. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

A  NEW  ORGANIZATION. 

Axl  those  who  were  engaged  in  these  efforts  felt 
their  inadequacy,  and  we  resolved  to  meet  at  different 
private  houses  to  discuss  the  formation  of  some  more 
comprehensive  effort.  At  length,  in  1853,  we  organ- 
ized, and,  to  the  great  surprise  of  the  writer,  his  asso- 
ciates suggested  that  he  should  take  the  position 
of  executive  officer  of  the  new  and  untried  Associa- 
tion. He  was  at  that  time  busied  in  literary  and 
editorial  pursuits,  but  had  expected  soon  to  carry  out 
the  purpose  of  his  especial  training,  and  to  become 
a  preacher.  He  never  dreamed  of  making  a  life- 
pursuit  of  it  in  the  beginning,  or  during  a  number  of 
years ;  but  "  the  call "  of  the  neglected  and  outcast 
was  too  strong  for  him,  finally,  to  listen  to  any  other, 
and  the  humble  charity  at  length  became  a  moral  and 
educational  movement  so  profound  and  earnest  as  to 
repay  the  life-endeavors  of  any  man.  He  has  never 
regretted  having  cast  aside  whatever  chance  he  may 
have  had  for  the  prizes  and  honors  of  life,  for  the  sake 
of  the  forgotten  and  the  unfortunate,  and,  above  all,  for 


THE  FIRST  TRUSTEES. 


85 


His  sake  to  whom  we  owe  all.  Indeed,  he  holds  him- 
self most  fortunate  in  his  profession,  for  it  may  be 
said  there  is  no  occupation  to  which  man  can  devote 
himself,  where  he  can  have  such  unmingled  happiness, 
as  when  he  is  assuaging  human  misery  and  raising 
the  ignorant  and  depressed  to  a  higher  life. 

THE  TRUSTEES. 

One  of  the  most  energetic  members  of  this  new 
body,  in  the  beginning,  was  a  nephew  of  Dr.  Chan- 
ning — a  Unitarian,  Mr.  Win.  C.  Eussell — a  man  of 
singular  earnestness  of  character,  now  Professor  of 
History  and  Yice-President  in  Cornell  University. 
With  him  was  associated  a  friend,  Mr.  B.  J.  How- 
land,  of  peculiar  compassion  of  nature,  whose  life 
almost  consisted  of  the  happiness  it  shed  on  others — 
•  he  also  being  a  Unitarian.  Then,  on  the  other  side, 
theologically,  was  Judge  John  L.  Mason,  one  of  the 
pillars  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  from  an  old  and 
honored  Presbyterian  family.  His  accurate  legality 
of  mind  and  solidity  of  character  were  of  immense 
advantage  to  the  youthful  Association,  while,  under 
a  formal  exterior,  he  had  a  most  merciful  heart  for  all 
kinds  of  human  misery.  He  was  our  presiding  officer 
for  many  years,  and  did  most  faithful  and  thorough 
work  for  the  charity.  With  him.  representing  the 
Congregationalists,  was  a  very  careful  and  judicious 
man,  engaged  for  many  years  in  Sunday-schools  and 


86      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

similar  movements,  Mr.  Wm.  C.  Oilman.  The  Dutch 
Eeformed  were  represented  by  an  experienced  friend 
of  education,  Mr.  M.  T.  Hewitt ;  and  the  Presbyterians 
again  by  one  of  such  gentleness  and  humanity,  that  all 
sects  might  have  called  him  Brother — Mr.  W.  L.  King. 
To  these  was  added  one  who  has  been  a  great  im- 
pelling force  of  this  humane  movement  ever  since — 
a  man  of  large,  generous  nature,  and  much  impulse 
of  temperament,  with  a  high  and  refined  culture,  who 
has  done  more  to  gain  support  for  this  charity  with 
the  business  community,  where  he  is  so  influential, 
than  any  other  one  man — Mr.  J.  E.  Williams,  also  a 
Unitarian.  Mr.  W.  had  also  been  engaged  in  similar 
charities  in  Boston. 

During  the  first  year,  we  added  to  our  board  from 
the  Methodists,  Dr.  J.  L.  Phelps ;  from  the  Episco- 
palians, Mr.  Archibald  Eussell  (since  deceased),  who 
has  accomplished  so  much  as  the  President  of  the 
Board  of  the  Five  Points  House  of  Industry;  Mr. 
George  Bird,  and  Mr.  A.  S.  Hewitt,  who  is  now 
the  managing  head  of  that  great  educational  in- 
stitution, the  Cooper  Union ;  from  the  Presbyterians, 
the  celebrated  Mr.  Cyrus  W.  Field;  and  from  the 
u  Come-outers,"  Mr.  C.  W.  Elliott,  the  genial  author 
of  the  u  Hew  England  History."  Of  all  the  first  trus- 
tees, the  only  ones  in  office  in  1871  ar6  J.  E.  Wililams, 
B.  J.  Howland,  M.  T.  Hewitt,  and  C.  L.  Brace. 

On  a  subsequent  year  we  elected  a  gentleman  who 


u  CHRISTIAN  UNION." 


87 


especially  represented  a  religious  body  that  has  always 
profoundly  sympathized  with  our  enterprise — Mr. 
Howard  Potter,  the  son  of  the  eminent  Episcopal 
Bishop  of  Pennsylvania,  and  nephew  of  the  Bishop  of 
New  York.  And  yet,  of  all  the  members  of  our  Board, 
no  one  has  been  more  entirely  unsectarian  than  this 
trustee;  and  certainly  no  one  has  thrown  into  our 
charity  more  heart  and  a  more  unbiased  judgment. 
Mr.  Potter  is  still  trustee.  Through  him  and  Mr.  E. 
J.  Livingston,  who  was  chosen  a  few  years  after,  the 
whole  accounts  of  the  Society  were  subsequently  put 
in  a  clear  shape,  and  the  duties  of  the  trustees  in 
supervision  made  distinct  and  regular. 

It  is  an  evidence  of  the  simple  desire  for  doing 
good  which  actuated  these  gentlemen,  and  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  a  u  Christian  Union"  that,  though  repre- 
senting so  many  different  sects,  and  ardently  attached 
to  them,  there  never  was  in  all  the  subsequent  years 
the  slightest  difference  among  them  resulting  from 
their  divergent  views  on  speculative  topics.  Nearly 
all  of  them  were  engaged  practically  in  laboring 
among  the  dangerous  classes.  Mr.  Howland  and 
Mr.  Eussell  had  struggled  most  earnestly  for  a  con- 
siderable period  to  reform  the  morals  and  elevate 
the  character  of  the  degraded  population  near  u  Eotten 
Eow,"  in  Laurens  street,  and  their  "  Boys'  Meeting" 
had  been  one  of  the  most  spirited  efforts  in  this  direc- 
tion to  be  seen  in  the  city. 


88      THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


Several  of  the  gentlemen  I  have  mentioned  have 
become  distinguished  in  their  various  professions,  but 
it  may  be  doubted  if  they  will  look  back  on  any  action 
of  their  public  careers  with  more  satisfaction  than 
their  first  earnest  efforts  to  lay  firmly  the  foundations 
of  a  broad  structure  of  charity,  education,  and  reform. 

The  organization  was  happily  named 

"  THE  CHILDREN'S  AID  SOCIETY  OF  NEW  YORK." 

This  association,  which,  from  such  small  begin- 
nings has  grown  to  so  important  dimensions,  was  thus 
formed  in  1853,  and  was  subsequently  incorporated  in 
1856,  under  the  general  Act  of  the  State  of  STew  York 
in  relation  to  Charitable  Associations. 

A  small  office  on  the  corner  of  Amity  Street  was 
opened,  with  a  single  lad  in  attendance,  besides  the 
present  writer. 

The  public,  so  profound  was  the  sense  of  these 
threatening  evils,  immediately  came  forward  with  its 
subscriptions — the  first  large  gift  (fifty  dollars)  being 
from  the  wife  of  the  principal  property-holder  in  the 
city,  Mrs.  William  B.  Astor. 

Most  touching  of  all  was  the  crowd  of  wandering 
little  ones  who  immediately  found  their  way  to  the 
office.  Eagged  young  girls  who  had  nowhere  to  lay 
their  heads;  children  driven  from  drunkards'  homes; 
orphans  who  slept  where  they  could  find  a  box  or  a 
stairway;  boys  cast  out  by  step-mothers  or  step- 


FIRST  APPLICANTS. 


89 


fathers ;  newsboys,  whose  incessant  answer  to  our 
question,  u  Where  do  you  live  ? "  rung  in  our  ears, 
u  Don't  live  nowhere  1?  little  bootblacks,  young  ped- 
dlers u  canawl-boys,"  who  seem  to  drift  into  the  city 
every  winter,  and  live  a  vagabond  life  5  pickpockets 
and  petty  thieves  trying  to  get  honest  work ;  child  beg- 
gars and  flower-sellers  growing  up  to  enter  courses  of 
crime — all  this  jnotley  throng  of  infantile  misery  and 
childish  guilt  passed  through  our  doors,  telling  their 
simple  stories  of  suffering,  and  loneliness,  and  tempt- 
ation, until  our  hearts  became  sick ;  and  the  present 
writer,  certainly,  if  he  had  not  been  able  to  stir  up  the 
fortunate  classes  to  aid  in  assuaging  these  fearful  mis- 
eries, would  have  abandoned  the  post  in  discourage- 
ment and  disgust. 

The  following  letter,  written  at  this  time  by  the 
Secretary,  is  appended,  as  showing  the  feeling  of  those 
founding  the  Society : 

"  W.  L.  King,  Esq. : 

"  My  Dear  Sir — We  were  very  glad  to  get  your  first  letter  to  ♦ 
Mr.  Russell,  giving  us  your  good  wishes  and  your  subscription. 
It  was  read  aloud  to  our  committee,  and  we  have  several  times 
expressed  ourselves  as  very  much  regretting  your  absence.  I 
should  have  certainly  written  you,  but  I  did  not  know  your 
address.  I  received  yours  from  Macon  yesterday,  and  hasten  to 
reply. 

"  Everything  goes  on  well.  We  have  taken  Judge  Mason  and 
Mr.  J.  E.  Williams  (formerly  of  Boston)  into  the  committee.  I 
enclose  a  circular,  to  which,  according  to  the  permission  which  you 
gave  us,  we  have  placed  your  name.  We  have  opened  one  room 
for  a  workshop  in  Wooster  Street,  where  we  expect  to  have 


90      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


forty  or  fifty  boys.  The  work  is  shoe-making.  The  boys  jump 
at  the  chance  gladly.  Some  three  '  Newsboys'  Meetings '  we  are 
just  getting  under  way,  though  the  churches  move  slowly.  Our 
Meeting  in  Avenue  D  is  improving  every  Sunday,  and  is  very 
full.  Next  Thursday  eve,  I  have  made  arrangements  for  a  lec- 
ture on  the  Magic  Lantern  to  the  boys  of  our  Meeting.  We 
gave  out  tickets  on  Sunday.  The  Girls'  meeting  is  large,  and 
you  know,  perhaps,  is  now  widened  into  an  '  Industrial  School*  * 
for  girls,  which  meets  every  day  in  our  Building  in  Avenue  D. 
They  have  some  fifty  girls  at  work  there — the  worst  vagrant 
kind.  Public  attention  is  arousing  everywhere  to  this  matter ; 
and  the  first  two  or  three  days  after  our  Appeal  was  published, 
we  had  some  $400  sent  in,  part  in  cash,  without  the  trouble  of 
collecting.  We  shall  begin  collecting  this  week.  I  have  been 
interrupted  here  by  a  very  intelligent  little  newsboy,  who  is 
here  vagrant  and  helpless — ran  away  from  his  step-father.  One 
of  the  pressmen  sent  him  to  me.  We  shall  put  him  in  our 
workshop. 

"  I  pray  with  you,  dear  sir,  for  God's  blessing  on  our  young 
enterprise.  It  is  a  grand  one  ;  but  without  Him  I  see  how  use- 
less it  will  be.  If  we  succeed  even  faintly,  I  shall  feel  that  we 
have  not  lived  in  vain.  Surely  Christ  will  be  with  us  in  these 
feeble  efforts  for  his  poor  creatures. 

"  Very  truly  yours, 

"  Chakles  L.  Brace. 

"  New  York,  March  7, 1853. 

"  P.  S. — I  forgot  to  tell  you  the  name  we  have  chosen — '  Chil- 
dren's Aid  Society/ 

"  Office,  No.  683  Broadway,  2d  floor,  New  York." 

The  following  is  the  first  circular  of 

THE  CHILDREN'S  AID  SOCIETY. 

"  This  society  has  taken  its  origin  in  the  deeply  settled  feel- 
ings of  our  citizens,  that  something  must  be  done  to  meet  the 
increasing  crime  and  poverty  among  the  destitute  children  of 
New  York.    Its  objects  are  to  help  this  class  by  opening  Sunday 


'  The  Wilson  School." 


OUR  PLANS. 


91 


Meetings  and  Industrial  Schools,  and,  gradually  as  means  shall 
be  furnished,  by  forming  Lodging-houses  and  Reading-rooms  for 
children,  and  by  employing  paid  agents  whose  sole  business 
shall  be  to  care  for  them. 

"As  Christian  men,  we  cannot  look  upon  this  great  multitude 
of  unhappy,  deserted,  and  degraded  boys  and  girls  without  feel- 
ing our  responsibility  to  God  for  them.  We  remember  that 
they  have  the  same  capacities,  the  same  need  of  kind  and  good 
influences,  and  the  same  Immortality  as  the  little  ones  in  our 
own  homes.  We  bear  in  mind  that  One  died  for  them,  even  as 
for  the  children  of  the  rich  and  happy.  Thus  far,  alms-houses 
and  prisons  have  done  little  to  affect  the  evil.  But  a  small  part 
of  the  vagrant  population  can  be  shut  up  in  our  asylums,  and 
judges  and  magistrates  are  reluctant  to  convict  children  so  young 
and  ignorant  that  they  hardly  seem  able  to  distinguish  good  and 
evil.  The  class  increases.  Immigration  is  pouring  in  its  multi- 
tude of  poor  foreigners,  who  leave  these  young  outcasts  every- 
where abandoned  in  our  midst.  For  the  most  part,  the  boys  grow 
up  utterly  by  themselves.  No  one  cares  for  them,  and  they  care 
for  no  one.  Some  live  by  begging,  by  petty  pilfering,  by  bold 
robbery  ;  some  earn  an  honest  support  by  peddling  matches,  or 
apples,  or  newspapers  ;  others  gather  bones  and  rags  in  the  street 
to  sell.  They  sleep  on  steps,  in  cellars,  in  old  barns,  and  in  mar- 
kets, or  they  hire  a  bed"  in  filthy  and  low  lodging-houses.  They 
cannot  read ;  they  do  not  go  to  school  or  attend  a  church.  Many 
of  them  have  never  seen  the  Bible.  Every  cunning  faculty  is 
intensely  stimulated.  They  are  shrewd  and  old  in  vice,  when 
other  children  are  in  leading-strings.  Few  influences  which  are 
kind  and  good  ever  reach  the  vagrant  boy.  And,  yet,  among 
themselves  they  show  generous  and  honest  traits.  Kindness 
can  always  touch  them. 

"  The  girls,  too  often,  grow  up  even  more  pitiable  and  deserted. 
Till  of  late  no  one  has  ever  cared  for  them.  They  are  the  cross- 
walk sweepers,  the  little  apple-peddlers,  and  candy-sellers  of 
our  city  ;  or,  by  more  questionable  means,  they  earn  their  scanty 
bread.  They  traverse  the  low,  vile  streets  alone,  and  live  with- 
out mother  or  friends,  or  any  share  in  what  we  should  call  a 
home.  They  also  know  little  of  God  or  Christ,  except  by  name. 
They  grow  up  passionate,  ungoverned^with  no  love  or  kindness 


92     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOUK. 


ever  to  soften  the  heart.  We  all  know  their  short  wild  life — 
and  the  sad  end. 

"  These  boys  and  girls,  it  should  be  remembered,  will  soon 
form  the  great  lower  class  of  our  city.  They  will  influence 
elections ;  they  may  shape  the  policy  of  the  city ;  they  will, 
assuredly,  if  unreclaimed,  poison  society  all  around  them.  They 
will  help  to  form  the  great  multitude  of  robbers,  thieves, 
vagrants,  and  prostitutes  who  are  now  such  a  burden  upon  the 
law-respecting  community. 

"  In  one  ward  alone  of  the  city,  the  Eleventh,  there  were,  in 
1852,  out  of  12,000  children  between  the  ages  of  five  and  six- 
teen, only  7,000  who  attended  school,  and  only  2,500  who  went  to 
Sabbath  School ;  leaving  5,000  without  the  common  privileges  of 
education,  and  about  9,000  destitute  of  public  religious  influence. 

"  In  view  of  these  evils  we  have  formed  an  Association  which 
shall  devote  itself  entirely  to  this  class  of  vagrant  children. 
We  do  not  propose  in  any  way  to  conflict  with  existing  asylums 
and  institutions,  but  to  render  them  a  hearty  co-operation,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  to  fill  a  gap,  which,  of  necessity,  they  all  have 
left.  A  large  multitude  of  children  live  in  the  city  who  can- 
not be  placed  in  asylums,  and  yet  who  are  uncared-for  and  ig- 
norant and  vagrant.  We  propose  to  give  to  these  work,  and  to 
bring  them  under  religious  influence.  As  means  shall  come  in, 
it  is  designed  to  district  the  city,  so  that  hereafter  every  Ward 
may  have  its  agent,  who  shall  be  a  friend  to  the  vagrant  child. 
'  Boys'  Sunday  Meetings '  have  already  been  formed,  which  we 
hope  to  see  extended  until  every  quarter  has  its  place  of  preach- 
ing to  boys.  With  these  we  intend  to  connect  '  Industrial 
Schools/  where  the  great  temptations  to  this  class  arising  from 
want  of  work  may  be  removed,  and  where  they  can  learn  an  hon- 
est trade.  Arrangements  have  been  made  with  manufacturers, 
by  which,  if  we  have  the  requisite  funds  to  begin,  five  hundred 
boys  in  different  localities  can  be  supplied  with  paying  work. 
We  hope,  too,  especially  to  be  the  means  of  draining  the  city  of 
these  children,  by  communicating  with  farmers,  manufacturers, 
or  families  in  the  country,  who  may  have  need  of  such  for 
employment.  When  homeless  boys  are  found  by  our  agents,  we 
mean  to  get  them  homes  in  the  families  of  respectable,  needy 
persons  in  the  city,  and  put  them  in  the  way  of  an  honest  living. 


CENTRES  OF  CRIME. 


93 


We  design,  in  a  word,  to  bring  humane  and  kindly  influences  to 
bear  on  this  forsaken  class — to  preach,  in  various  modes  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ  to  the  vagrant  children  of  New  York. 

"  Numbers  of  our  citizens  have  long  felt  the  evils  we  would 
remedy,  but  few  have  the  leisure  or  the  means  to  devote  them- 
selves personally  to  this  work  with  the  thoroughness  which  it 
requires.  This  society,  as  we  propose,  shall  be  a  medium  through 
which  all  can,  in  their  measure,  practically  help  the  poor  chil- 
dren of  the  city. 

"  We  call  upon  all  who  recognize  that  these  are  the  little  ones 
of  Christ  ;  all  who  believe  that  crime  is  best  averted  by  sowing 
good  influences  in  childhood ;  all  who  are  the  friends  of  the  help- 
less, to  aid  us  in  our  enterprise.  We  confidently  hope  this  wide 
and  practical  movement  will  have  its  full  share  of  Christian 
liberality.  And  we  earnestly  ask  the  contributions  of  those  able 
to  give,  to  help  us  in  carrying  forward  the  work. 

*  *  *  #         #  *  * 

"  March,  1853." 

DENS  OF  MISERY  AND  CRIME. 

In  investigating  closely  the  different  parts  of  tlie 
city,  with  reference  to  future  movements  for  their 
benefit,  I  soon  came  to  know  certain  centres  of  crime 
and  misery,  until  every  lane  and  alley,  with  its  filth 
and  wretchedness  and  vice,  became  familiar  as  the 
lanes  of  a  country  homestead  to  its  owner.  There 
was  the  infamous  German  "Bag-pickers'  Dentin  Pitt 
and  Willett  Streets — double  rows  of  houses,  flaunting 
with  dirty  banners,  and  the  yards  heaped  Up  with 
bones  and  refuse,  where  cholera  raged  unchecked  in 
its  previous  invasion.  Here  the  wild  life  of  the  chil- 
dren soon  made  them  outcasts  and  thieves. 

Then  came  the  murderous  blocks  in  Cherry  and 
Water  Streets,  where  so  many  dark  crimes  were  con- 


94     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


tinually  committed,  and  where  the  little  girls  who 
flitted  about  with  baskets  and  wrapped  in  old  shawls 
became  familiar  with  vice  before  they  were  out  of 
childhood. 

There  were  the  thieves'  Lodging-houses,  in  the 
lower  wards,  where  the  street-boys  were  trained  by 
older  pickpockets  and  burglars  for  their  nefarious 
callings ;  the  low  immigrant  boarding-houses  and  vile 
cellars  of  the  First  Ward,  educating  a  youthful  popu- 
lation for  courses  of  guilt ;  the  notorious  rogues'  den 
in  Laurens  Street — "Botten  Bow" — where,  it  was 
said,  no  drove  of  animals  could  pass  by  and  keep  its 
numbers  intact;  and,  farther  above,  the  community 
of  young  garroters  and  burglars  around  "  Hamersley 
Street  and  Cottage  Place."  And,  still  more  north, 
the  dreadful  population  of  youthful  ruffians  and 
degraded  men  and  women  in  u  Poverty  Lane,"  near 
Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth  streets  and  Mnth  Avenue, 
which  subsequently  ripened  into  the  infamous  "  Nine- 
teenth-street Gang." 

On  the  east  side,  again,  was  u  Dutch  Hill,"  near 
Forty-second  Street,  the  squatters'  village,  whence 
issued  so  many  of  the  little  peddlers  of  the  city,  and 
the  Eleventh  Ward  and  u  Corlear's  Hook,"  where  the 
"copper-pickers,"  and  young  wood-stealers,  and  the 
thieves  who  beset  the  ship-yards  congregated ;  while 
below,  in  the  Sixth  Ward,  was  the  Italian  quarter, 
where  houses  could  be  seen  crowded  with  children, 


MORAL  DISINFECTANTS. 


95 


monkeys,  dogs,  and  all  the  appurtenances  of  the  corps 
of  organ-grinders,  harpers,  and  the  little  Italian  street- 
sweepers,  who  then,  ignorant  and  untrained,  wan- 
dered through  our  down-town  streets  and  alleys. 

Near  each  one  of  these  "  fever-nests,"  and  centres 
of  ignorance,  crime,  and  poverty,  it  was  our  hope  and 
aim  eventually  to  place  some  agency  which  should  be 
a  moral  and  physical  disinfectant — a  seed  of  reform 
and  improvement  amid  the  wilderness  of  vice  and 
degradation. 

It  seemed  a  too  enthusiastic  hope  to  be  realized ; 
and,  at  times,  the  waves  of  misery  and  guilt  through 
these  dark  places  appeared  too  overwhelming  and 
irresistible  for  any  one  effort  or  association  of  efforts 
to  be  able  to  stem  or  oppose  them. 

How  the  somewhat  ardent  hope  was  realized,  and 
the  plan  carried  out,  will  appear  hereafter. 

The  first  special  effort  that  we  put  forth  was  the 
providing  of  work  for  these  children,  by  opening 

workshops. 

These  experiments,  of  which  we  made  many  at  dif- 
ferent times,  were  not  successful.  Our  object  was  to 
render  the  shops  self-supporting.  But  the  irregular- 
ity of  the  class  attending  them,  the  work  spoiled,  and 
the  necessity  of  competing  with  skilled  labor  and  often 
with  machinery,  soon  put  us  behind.  We  had  one 
workshop  for  pegging  boots  and  shoes  in  Wooster 


96      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Street 7  where  we  soon  got  employment  for  numbers 
of  street-boys  5  but  a  machine  was  suddenly  invented 
for  pegging  shoes,  which  drove  us  out  of  the  field. 
We  tried  then  paper  box  and  bag-making,  carpenter- 
ing, and  other  branches ;  but  it  may  be  set  down  as 
an  axiom,  that  "  Benevolence  cannot  compete  with 
Selfishness  in  business."  Philanthropy  will  never  cut 
down  the  expenses  of  production,  as  will  individual 
self-interest. 

Moreover,  these  artificial  workshops  excite  the  jeal- 
ousy of  the  trades,  while  they  are  not  so  necessary  in 
this  country  as  in  Europe,  because  the  demand  is  so 
great  here  for  children's  labor. 

We  soon  discovered  that  if  we  could  train  the 
children  of  the  streets  to  habits  of  industry  and  self- 
control  and  neatness,  and  give  them  the  rudiments 
of  moral  and  mental  education,  we  need  not  trouble 
ourselves  about  anything  more.  A  child  in  any 
degree  educated  and  disciplined  can  easily  make  an 
honest  living  in  this  country.  The  only  occasional 
exception  is  with  young  girls  depending  on  the  needle 
for  support,  inasmuch  as  the  competition  here  is  so 
severe.  But  for  these  we  often  were  enabled  to  pro- 
vide instruction  in  skilled  labor,  which  supported 
them  easily ;  and,  if  taught  cleanliness  and  habits  of 
order  and  punctuality,  they  had  no  difficulty  in  se- 
curing places  as  upper  servants,  or  they  soon  married 
into  a  better  class. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 


HOMELESS  BOYS. 
THE  NEWSBOYS'  LODGING-HOUSE. 

The  spectacle  which  earliest  and  most  painfully 
arrested  my  attention  in  this  work,  were  the  houseless 
boys  in  various  portions  of  the  city. 

There  seemed  to  be  a  very  considerable  class  of 
lads  in  New  York  who  bore  to  the  busy,  wealthy 
world  about  them  something  of  the  same  relation 
which  Indians  bear  to  the  civilized  Western  settlers. 
They  had  no  settled  home,  and  lived  on  the  outskirts 
of  society,  their  hand  against  every  man's  pocket,  and 
every  man  looking  on  them  as  natural  enemies  ;  their 
wits  sharpened  like  those  of  a  savage,  and  their  prin- 
ciples often  no  better.  Christianity  reared  its  temples 
over  them,  and  Civilization  was  carrying  on  its  great 
work,  while  they — a  happy  race  of  little  heathens  and 
barbarians — plundered,  or  frolicked,  or  led  their  rov- 
ing life,  far  beneath.  Sometimes  they  seemed  to  me, 
like  what  the  police  call  them,  "  street-rats/7  who 
gnawed  at  the  foundations  of  society,  and  scampered 
away  when  light  was  brought  near  them.  Their  life 
was,  of  course,  a  painfully  hard  one.  To  sleep  in  boxes, 

or  under  stairways,  or  in  hay-barges  on  the  coldest 
5 


98     THE  DANGEKOTJS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


winter-nights,  for  a  mere  child,  was  hard  enough ;  but 
often  to  have  no  food,  to  be  kicked  and  cuffed  by  the 
older  ruffians,  and  shoved  about  by  the  police,  stand- 
ing barefooted  and  in  rags  under  doorways  as  the 
winter-storm  raged,  and  to  know  that  in  all  the  great 
city  there  was  not  a  single  door  open  with  welcome 
to  the  little  rover — this  was  harder. 

Yet,  with  all  this,  a  more  light-hearted  youngster 
than  the  street-boy  is  not  to  be  found.  He  is  always 
ready  to  make  fun  of  his  own  sufferings,  and  to 
u  chaff v  others.  His  face  is  old  from  exposure  and 
his  sharp  "  struggle  for  existence ;  "  his  clothes  flutter 
in  the  breeze ;  and  his  bare  feet  peep  out  from  the 
broken  boots.  Yet  he  is  merry  as  a  clown,  and  always 
ready  for  the  smallest  joke,  and  quick  to  take  u  a 
point ??  or  to  return  a  repartee.  His  views  of  life  are 
mainly  derived  from  the  more  mature  opinions  of 
"flash-men,"  engine-runners,  cock-fighters,  pugilists, 
and  pickpockets,  whom  he  occasionally  is  permitted 
to  look  upon  with  admiration  at  some  select  pot-house; 
while  his  more  ideal  pictures  of  the  world  about  him, 
and  his  literary  education,  come  from  the  low  theatres, 
to  which  he  is  passionately  attached.  His  morals  are, 
of  course,  not  of  a  high  order,  living,  as  he  does,  in  a 
fighting,  swearing,  stealing,  and  gambling  set.  Yet 
he  has  his  code ;  he  will  not  get  drunk ;  he  pays  his 
debts  to  other  boys,  and  thinks  it  dishonorable  to  sell 
papers  on  their  beat,  and,  if  they  come  on  his,  he 


THE  NEWSBOY. 


99 


administers  summary  justice  by  u  punching ; "  lie  is 
generous  to  a  fault,  and  will  always  divide  his  last 
sixpence  with  a  poorer  boy.  u  Life  is  a  strife  "  with 
him,  and  money  its  reward ;  and,  as  bankruptcy  means 
to  the  street-boy  a  night  on  the  door-steps  without 
supper,  he  is  sharp  and  reckless,  if  he  can  only  earn 
or  get  enough  to  keep  him  above  water.  His  tempta- 
tions are,  to  cheat,  steal,  and  lie.  His  religion  is 
vague.  One  boy,  who  told  me  he  u  didn't  live  no- 
where," who  had  never  heard  of  Christ,  said  he  had 
heard  of  God,  and  the  boys  thought  it  "  kind  o'  lucky" 
to  say  over  something  to  Him  which  one  of  them  had 
learned,  when  they  were  sleeping  out  in  boxes. 

With  all  their  other  vices,  it  is  remarkable  how  few 
of  these  smaller  street-boys  ever  take  liquor.  And 
their  kindness  to  one  another,  when  all  are  in  the 
utmost  destitution,  is  a  credit  to  human  nature.* 

Their  money  is  unfortunately  apt  to  slip  away, 
especially  for  gambling  and  petty  lotteries,  called 
H  policy-tickets."  A  tradition  in  the  remote  past  of 
some  boy  who  drew  a  hundred  dollars  in  these  lotter- 
ies still  pervades  the  whole  body,  and  they  annually 
sink  a  considerable  portion  of  their  hard-earned  pen- 
nies in  u  policy-tickets." 

*  Only  recently,  a  poor  hump-backed  lad  in  the  Newsboys' 
Lodging-house  gave  his  dollar,  and  collected  nine  more  from  the 
boys,  for  the  family  of  the  children  who  were  lost  in  New 
Jersey. 


100    THE  DANGrEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOE.K. 

The  choice  of  these  lads  of  a  night's  resting-place 
is  sometimes  almost  as  remarkable  as  was  Gavroche's 
in  "  Les  Miserables."  Two  little  newsboys  slept  one 
winter  in  the  iron  tube  of  the  bridge  at  Harlem; 
two  others  made  their  bed  in  a  burned-out  safe  in 
Wall  Street.  Sometimes  they  ensconced  themselves 
in  the  cabin  of  a  ferry-boat,  and  thus  spent  the 
night.  Old  boilers,  barges,  steps,  and,  above  all, 
steam-gratings,  were  their  favorite  beds. 

In  those  days  the  writer  would  frequently  see  ten 
or  a  dozen  of  them,  piled  together  to  keep  one  another 
warm,  under  the  stairs  of  the  printing-offices. 

In  planning  the  alleviation  of  these  evils,  it  was 
necessary  to  keep  in  view  one  object,  not  to  weaken 
the  best  quality  of  this  class— their  sturdy  independ- 
ence— and,  at  the  same  time,  their  prejudices  and 
habits  were  not  too  suddenly  to  be  assailed.  They 
had  a  peculiar  dread  of  Sunday  Schools  and  religious 
exhortations — I  think  partly  because  of  the  general 
creed  of  their  older  associates,  but  more  for  fear  that 
these  exercises  were  a  66  pious  dodge  v  for  trapping  them 
into  the  House  of  Eefage  or  some  place  of  detention. 

The  first  thing  to  be  aimed  at  in  the  plan  was,  to 
treat  the  lads  as  independent  little  dealers,  and  give 
them  nothing  without  payment,  but  at  the  same  time 
to  offer  them  much  more  for  their  money  than  they 
could  get  anywhere  else.  Moral,  educational,  and 
religious  influences  were  to  come  in  afterward.  Secur- 


THE  FIRST  LODGrlNGr-HOUSE. 


101 


ing  them  through  their  interests,  we  had  a  permanent 
hold  of  them. 

Efforts  were  made  by  the  writer  among  our  influen- 
tial citizens  and  in  various  churches,  public  meetings 
were  held,  articles  written,  the  press  interested,  and 
at  length  sufficient  money  was  pledged  to  make  the 
experiment.  The  board  of  the  new  Society  gave  its 
approval,  and  a  loft  was  secured  in  the  old  u  Sim 
Buildings,"  and  fitted  up  as  a  lodging-room,  and  in 
March,  1854,  the  first  Lodging-house  for  street-boys 
or  newsboys  in  this  country  was  opened. 

An  excellent  superintendent  was  found  in  the  per- 
son of  a  carpenter,  Mr.  C.  0.  Tracy,  who  showed 
remarkable  ingenuity  and  tact  in  the  management  of 
these  wild  lads.  These  little  subjects  regarded  the  first 
arrangements  with  some  suspicion  and  much  contempt. 
To  find  a  good  bed  offered  them  for  six  cents,  with  a 
bath  thrown  in,  and  a  supper  for  four  cents,  was  a 
hard  fact,  which  they  could  rest  upon  and  understand; 
but  the  motive  was  evidently  u  gaseous."  There  was 
u  no  money  in  it " — that  was  clear.  The  Superintend- 
ent was  probably  "  a  street  preacher,"  and  this  was  a 
trap  to  get  them  to  Sunday  Schools,  and  so  prepare 
them  for  the  House  of  Befage,  Still,  they  might  have 
a  lark  there,  and  it  could  be  no  worse  than  u  bum- 
ming," i.  e.j  sleeping  out.  They  laid  their  plans  for  a 
general  scrimmage  in  the  school-room — first  cutting 
off  the  gas,  and  then  a  row  in  the  bedroom. 


102    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


The  superintendent,  however,  in  a  bland  and  be- 
nevolent way,  nipped  their  plans  in  the  bud.  The 
gas-pipes  were  guarded;  the  rough  ring-leaders  were 
politely  dismissed  to  the  lower  door,  where  an  officer 
looked  after  their  welfare ;  and,  when  the  first  boots 
began  to  fly  from  a  little  fellow's  bed,  he  found  himself ' 
suddenly  snaked  out  by  a  gentle  but  muscular  hand, 
and  left  in  the  cold  to  shiver  over  his  folly.  The 
others  began  to  feel  that  a  mysterious  authority  was 
getting  even  with  them,  and  thought  it  better  to  nestle 
in  their  warm  beds. 

Little  sleeping,  however,  was  there  among  them 
that  night;  but  ejaculations  sounded  out — such  as,  UI 
say,  Jim,  this  is  rayther  better  'an  bummin7 — eh  ?  "  "  My 
eyes !  what  soft  beds  these  is !  "  u  Tom !  it's  'most  as 
good  as  a  steam-gratin',  and  there  ain't  no  M.  P.'s  to 
poke  neither! "  u  I'm  glad  I  ain't  a  bummer  to-night ! " 

A  good  wash  and  a  breakfast  sent  the  lodgers 
forth  in  the  morning,  happier  and  cleaner,  if  not  better, 
than  when  they  went  in.  This  night's  success  estab- 
lished its  popularity  with  the  newsboys.  The  "  Fulton 
Lodge  "  soon  became  a  boys'  hotel,  and  one  loft  was 
known  among  them  as  the  "  Astor  House." 

Quietly  and  judiciously  did  Mr.  Tracy  advance  his 
lines  among  them. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  one  morning,  u  there  was  a  gentle- 
man here  this  morning,  who  wanted  a  boy  in  an  office, 
at  three  dollars  a  week." 


SUNDAY  MEETING. 


103 


u  My  eyes !    Let  me.  go,  sir !  "  And — "  Me,  sir ! " 
"But  he  wanted  a  boy  who  could  write  a  good 
hand." 

Their  countenances  fell. 

"  Well,  now,  suppose  we  have  a  night-school,  and 
learn  to  write — what  do  you  say,  boys  ?  " 
u  Agreed,  sir." 

And  so  arose  our  evening-school. 

The  Sunday  Meeting,  which  is  now  an  "  institu- 
tion," was  entered  upon  in  a  similarly  discreet  man- 
ner. The  lads  had  been  impressed  by  a  public  funeral, 
and  Mr.  Tracy  suggested  their  listening  to  a  little 
reading  from  the  Bible.  They  consented,  and  were  a 
good  deal  surprised  at  what  they  heard.  The  "  Golden 
Rule "  struck  them  as  an  altogether  impossible  kind 
of  precept  to  obey,  especially  when  one  was  "  stuck 
and  short,"  and  "  had  to  live."  The  marvels  of  the 
Bible — the  stories  of  miracles  and  the  like — always 
seemed  to  them  natural  and  proper.  That  a  Being  of 
such  a  character  as  Christ  should  control  Nature  and 
disease,  was  appropriate  to  their  minds.  And  it  was 
a  kind  of  comfort  to  these  young  vagabonds  that  the 
Son  of  God  was  so  often  homeless,  and  that  he  be- 
longed humanly  to  the  working  classes.  The  petition 
for  "  daily  bread "  (which  a  celebrated  divine  has 
declared  u  unsuited  to  modern  conditions  of  civiliza- 
tion ")  they  always  rolled  out  with  a  peculiar  unction. 
I  think  that  the  conception  of  a  Superior  Being,  who 


104   THE  DANGrEE-OUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOUK. 

knew  just  the  sort  of  privations  and  temptations  that 
followed  them,  and  who  felt  especially  for  the  poorer 
classes,  who  was  always  near  them,  and  pleased  at 
true  manhood  in  them,  did  keep  afterward  a  consider- 
able number  of  them  from  lying  and  stealing  and 
cheating  and  vile  pleasures. 

Their  singing  was  generally  prepared  for  by  taking 
off  their  coats  and  rolling  up  their  sleeves,  and  was 
entered  into  with  a  gusto. 

The  voices  seemed  sometimes  to  come  from  a  (lif- 
erent part  of  their  natures  from  what  we  saw  with  the 
bodily  eyes.  There  was,  now  and  then,  a  gentle  and 
minor  key,  as  if  a  glimpse  of  something  purer  and 
higher  passed  through  these  rough  lads.  A  favorite 
song  was,  u  There's  a  Eest  for  the  Weary,"  though 
more  untiring  youngsters  than  these  never  frisked 
over  the  earth  ;  and  "  There's  a  Light  in  the  Window 
for  Thee,  Brother,"  always  pleased  them,  as  if  they 
imagined  themselves  wandering  alone  through  a  great 
city  at  night,  and  at  length  a  friendly  light  shone  in 
the  window  for  them. 

Their  especial  vice  of  money- wasting  the  Superin- 
tendent broke  up  by  opening  a  Savings-bank,  and 
allowing  the  boys  to  vote  how  long  it  should  be  closed. 
The  small  daily  deposits  accumulated  to  such  a  de- 
gree that  the  opening  gave  them  a  great  surprise  at 
the  amounts  which  they  possessed,  and  they  began  to 
feel  thus  the  u  sefise  of  property,"  and  the  desire  of 


THE  DISCIPLINE. 


105 


accumulation,  which,  economists  tell  us,  is  the  base 
of  all  civilization.  A  liberal  interest  was  also  soon 
allowed  on  deposits,  which  stimulated  the  good  habit. 
At  present,  from  two  hundred  to  three  hundred  dollars 
will  often  be  saved  by  the  lads  in  a  month. 

The  same  device,  and  constant  instruction,  broke 
up  gambling,  though  I  think  policy-tickets  were  never 
fairly  undermined  among  them. 

The  present  Superintendent  and  Matron  of  the 
Newsboys7  Lodging-house,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  O'Connor  (at 
Ubs.  49  and  51  Park  Place),  are  unsurpassed  in  such 
institutions  in  their  discipline,  order,  good  manage- 
ment, and  excellent  housekeeping.  The  floors,  over 
which  two  hundred  or  two  hundred  and  fifty  street- 
boys  tread  daily,  are  as  clean  as  a  man-of-war's  deck. 
The  Sunday-evening  meetings  are  as  attentive  and 
orderly  as  a  church,  the  week-evening  school  quiet  and 
studious.  All  that  mass  of  wild  young  humanity  is 
kept  in  perfect  order,  and  brought  under  a  thousand 
good  influences. 

The  Superintendent  has  had  a  very  good  prelimi- 
nary experience  for  this  work  in  the  military  service — 
having  been  in  the  British  army  in  the  Crimea. 
The  discipline  which  he  maintains  is  excellent.  He 
is  a  man,  too,  of  remarkable  generosity  of  feeling, 
and  a  good  u  provider."  One  always  knows  that  his 
boys  will  have  enough  to  eat,  and  that  everything 
will  be  managed  liberally — and  justly.     It  is  truly 


106    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

'  remarkable  during  how  many  years  he  controlled  that 
great  multitude  of  little  vagabonds  and  "roughs/* 
and  yet  with  scarcely  ever  even  a  complaint  from  any 
source  against  him.  For  such  success  is  needed  the 
utmost  kindness,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  strictest 
justice.  His  wife  has  been  almost  like  a  mother  to 
the  boys. 

In  the  course  of  a  year  the  population  of  a  town 
passes  through  the  Lodging-house— in  1869  and  ?70, 
eight  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty-five  different 
boys.  Many  are  put  in  good  homes ;  some  find  places 
for  themselves;  others  drift  away — no  one  knows 
whither.  They  are  an  army  of  orphans — -regiments  of 
children  who  have  not  a  home  or  friend — a  multitude 
of  little  street-rovers  who  have  no  place  where  to  lay 
their  heads.  They  are  being  educated  in  the  streets 
rapidly  to  be  thieves  and  burglars  and  criminals.  The 
Lodging-house  is  at  once  school,  church,  intelligence- 
office,  and  hotel  for  them.  Here  they  are  shaped  to 
be  honest  and  industrious  citizens ;  here  taught  econ- 
omy, good  order,  cleanliness,  and  morality;  here  Ee- 
ligion  brings  its  powerful  influences  to  bear  upon 
them ;  and  they  are  sent  forth  to  begin  courses  of  hon- 
est livelihood. 

The  Lodging-houses  repay  their  expenses  to  the 
public  ten  times  over  each  year,  in'  preventing  the 
growth  of  thieves  and  criminals.  They  are  agencies 
of  pure  humanity  and  almost  unmingled  good.  Their 


THE  ROOMS. 


107 


only  possible  reproach  could  be,  that  some  of  their 
wild  subjects  are  soon  beyond  their  reach,  and  have 
been  too  deeply  tainted  with  the  vices  of  street-life  to 
be  touched  even  by  kindness,  education,  or  religion. 
The  number  who  are  saved,  however,  are  most  en- 
couragingly large. 

The  Newsboys'  Lodging-house  is  by  no  means, 
however,  an  entire  burden  on  the  charity  of  the  com- 
munity. During  1870  the  lads  themselves  paid  $3,349 
toward  its  expense. 

The  following  is  a  brief  description  of  the  rooms 
during  the  past  five  years  : 

The  first  floor  is  divided  into  various  compartments 
— a  large  dining-room,  where  one  hundred  and  fifty 
boys  can  sit  down  to  a  table;  a  kitchen,  laundry,  store- 
room, servants'  room,  and  rooms  for  the  family  of  the 
superintendent.  The  next  story  is  partitioned  into  a 
school-room,  gymnasium,  and  bath  and  wash  rooms, 
plentifully  supplied  with  hot  and  cold  water.  The 
hot  water  and  the  heat  of  the  rooms  are  supplied  by 
a  steam-boiler  on  the  lower  story.  The  two  upper 
stories  are  filled  with  neat  iron  bedsteads,  having  two 
beds  each,  arranged  like  ships' bunks  over  each  other; 
of  these  there  are  two  hundred  and  sixty.  Here  are 
also  the  water- vats,  into  which  the  many  barrelsful 
used  daily  are  pumped  by  the  engine.  The  rooms  are 
high  and  dry,  and  the  floors  clean. 

It  is  a  commentary  on  the  housekeeping  and 


108    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

accommodations  that  for  eighteen  years  no  case  of 
contagious  disease  has  ever  occurred  among  these 
thousands  of  boys. 

The  JSTew  York  ^Newsboys'  Lodging-house  has  been 
in  existence  eighteen  years.  During  these  years  it 
has  lodged  91,326  different  boys,  restored  7,278  boys 
to  friends,  provided  5,126  with  homes,  furnished  576,- 
485  lodgings  and  469,461  meals.  The  expense  of  all 
this  has  been  $132,888.  Of  this  amount  the  boys  have 
contributed  $32,306. 

That  the  Lodging-house  has  had  a  vigorous  growth, 
is  shown  by  the  following  table: 


FIGURES. 


109 


o 
W 
6 
to 

M 

o 
p 
o 

Hi 


o 

a 

to 

o 

to 

S 

H 

a 

o 

B 
to 


to 


H 

a 


o,S  '53  o3 


& 

M 


O  03 


d  ° 


Hb.  lO  rH  ©  Oi      J>  ^  iXM  CO  CO 

OOlOlCOlOCCHMNGOOOOO 

HiONHXOQOWOVflOOMOO 


CO  CO  WWQOOiOHHlOOiHNHOHWM 


THTHrHrHrHC^OSCOeOCO^CO 


COOiOCO'l'CONOOW^OOCOCiOlOTtHCO 
i>Q0l0O«lW5i0OQ0n05Hb.O^(MHO 

n^^0)HH^ls^i>HOQ0OC0^HQ0 

.THWr^r^oi^CO^'CO^t^  ©O^oT  CO^CO*^"^ 
rH  tH  rH  CM  tH  rH  rH 


COi>COCOOsCftCO(MCO© 
05C0N^HH05^HO 

co^iocoi>Goaocoi>TH 


COrtirHCOCiO?OJ>l>COJ>(Ml>OOTt 
OiH^hOOOW^OMHOJO^H 


OOiOr-"^^1-       ^  -*1  ""s  -*  *^  " 


QQ^fi^ooooioo  toco  co  oi  a>  co  to  10 
2&22<£2°2i>0^a5^cft<3>T!*00iOco 

^COCOJOOW50CX)OCOi>(M»--it005COCDQO 

w^^ctfco^cT  co^i>Tco^co^c©^t>roo"vctr 


00  00  GO  00  QO  GO  00  GO  00  00  00  00  00  00  00   2  00  CD  o 
rH  rH  rH  tH  tH  tH  rH  tH  r- 1  tH  rH  rH  rH  rH  rH   g  rH  rH 
000000000000000-.00 

^LOONQOOiOHWCOH<iO^NOOOiOiO 

aOCOCCCOOOCOQOOOOOOOGOOOGOOOOOGOOOCO 


110    THE  DANGEBOUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


Extracts  from  the  journal  of  a  visitor  from  the 
country : 

A  VISIT  TO  THE  NEWSBOYS. 

"  It  requires  a  peculiar  person  to  manage  and  talk  to  these 
boys.  Bullet-headed,  short-haired,  bright-eyed,  shirt-sleeved, 
go-ahead  boys.  Boys  who  sell  papers,  black  boots,  run  on  er- 
rands, hold  horses,  pitch  pennies,  sleep  in  barrels,  and  steal 
their  bread.  Boys  who  know  at  the  age  of  twelve  more  than 
the  children  of  ordinary  men  would  have  learned  at  twenty; 
boys  who  can  cheat  you  out  of  your  eye-teeth,  and  are  as  smart 
as  a  steel-trap.  They  will  stand  no  fooling ;  they  are  accustomed 
to  gammon,  they  live  by  it.  No  audience  that  ever  we  saw  could 
compare  in  attitudinizing  with  this.  Heads  generally  up ;  eyes 
full  on  the  speaker ;  mouths,  almost  without  an  exception,  closed 
tightly ;  hands  in  pockets ;  legs  stretched  out ;  no  sleepers,  all 
wide-awake,  keenly  alive  for  a  pun,  a  point,  or  a  slangism. 
Winding  up,  Mr.  Brace  said:  'Well,  boys,  I  want  my  friends 
here  to  see  that  you  have  the  material  for  talkers  amongst  your- 
selves ;  whom  do  you  choose  for  your  orator  ? ' 

"  '  Paddy,  Paddy/  shouted  one  and  all.  '  Come  out,  Paddy. 
Why  don't  you  show  yourself  V  and  so  on. 

"  Presently  Paddy  came  forward,  and  stood  upon  a  stool.  He 
is  a  youngster,  not  more  than  twelve,  with  a  little  round  eye,  a 
short  nose,  a  lithe  form,  and  chuck-full  of  fun. 

f<  '  Bummers/  said  he, '  snoozers,  and  citizens,  Fve  come  down 
here  among  ye  to  talk  to  yer  a  little !  Me  and  my  friend  Brace 
have  come  to  see  how  ye'r  gittin'  along,  and  to  advise  yer.  You 
fellers  what  stands  at  the  shops  with  yer  noses  over  the  railin', 
smellm'  ov  the  roast  beef  and  the  hash — you  fellers  who's  got 
no  home — think  of  it  how  we  are  to  encourage  ye.  [Derisive 
laughter,  "  Ha-ha's,"  arid  various  ironical  kinds  of  applause.]  I 
say,  bummers — for  you're  all  bummers  (in  a  tone  of  kind  patron- 
age)— I  was  a  bummer  once  [great  laughter] — I  hate  to  see  you 
spendin'  your  money  on  penny  ice-creams  and  bad  cigars.  Why 
don't  you  save  your  money  ?  You  feller  without  no  boots,  how 
would  you  like  a  new  pair,  eh  ?  [Laughter  from  all  the  boys 
but  the  one  addressed.]    Well,  I  hope  you  may  get  'em,  but  I 


THE  NEWSBOY, 

(From  a  Photograph.) 


111 


rayther  think  you  won't.  I  have  hopes  for  you  all.  I  want  you 
to  grow  up  to  be  rich  men — citizens,  Government  men,  lawyers, 
generals,  and  influence  men.  Well,  boys,  I'll  tell  you  a  story. 
My  dad  was  a  hard  'un.  One  beautiful  day  he  went  on  a  spree, 
and  he  came  home  and  told  me  where's  yer  mother  ?  and  I  axed 
him  I  didn't  know,  and  he  dipt  me  over  the  head  with  an  iron 
pot,  and  knocked  me  down,  and  me  mither  drapped  in  on  him, 
and  at  it  they  went.  [Hi-hi's,  and  demonstrative  applause.] 
Ah !  at  it  they  went,  and  at  it  they  kept — ye  should  have  seen 
'em — and  whilst  they  were  fightin',  I  slipped  meself  out  the 
back  door,  and  away  I  went  like  a  scart  dog.  [Oh,  dry  up ! 
Bag  your  head  !  Simmer  down  !  ]  Well,  boys,  I  wint  on  till  I 
kim  to  the  '  Home '  [great  laughter  among  the  boys],  and  they 
took  me  in  [renewed  laughter],  and  did  for  me,  without  a  cap  to 
me  head  or  shoes  io  me  feet,  and  thin  I  ran  away,  and  here  I  am. 
Now  boys  [with  mopk  solemnity],  be  good,  mind  yer  manners, 
copy  me,  and  see  what  you'll  become.' 

"  At  this  point  the  boys  raised  such  a  storm  of  hifalutin 
applause,  and  indulged  in  such  characteristic  demonstrations  of 
delight,  that  it  was  deemed  best  to  stop  the  youthful  Demos- 
thenes, who  jumped  from  his  stool  with  a  bound  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  a  monkey. 

"At  this  juncture  huge  pans  of  apples  were  brought  in,  and 
the  boys  were  soon  engaged  in  munching  the  delightful  fruit, 
after  which  the  Matron  gave  out  a  hymn,  and  all  joined  in  sing- 
ing it,  during  which  we  took  our  leave." 

A  NEWSBOY'S  SPEECH.    (EROM  OUR  JOURNAL.) 

"  Some  of  these  boys,  in  all  their  misfortunes,  have  a 
humorous  eye  for  their  situation — as  witness  the  following 
speech,  delivered  by  one  of  them  at  the  Newsboys'  Lodging- 
house,  before  the  departure  of  a  company  to  the  West.  The 
report  is  a  faithful  one,  made  on  the  spot.  The  little  fellow 
mounted  a  chair,  and  thus  held  forth : 

"  '  Boys,  gintlemen,  chummies  :  Praps  you'd  like  to  hear  sum- 
mit about  the  West,  the  great  West,  you  know,  where  so  many 
of  our  old  friends  are  settled  down  and  growin'  up  to  be  great 


112    THE  BAJS 'GK3E0TJS  CLARES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


men,  maybe  the  greatest  men  in  the  great  Republic.  Boys, 
that's  the  place  for  growing  Congressmen,  and  Governors,  and 
Presidents.  Do  you  want  to  be  newsboys  always,  and  shoe- 
blacks, and  timber-merchants  in  a  small  way  by  sellin'  matches  ? 
If  ye  do  you'll  stay  in  New  York,  but  if  you  don't  you'll  go  out 
West,  and  begin  to  be  farmers,  for  the  beginning  of  a  farmer, 
my  boys,  is  the  making  of  a  Congressman,  and  a  President.  Do 
you  want  to  be  rowdies,  and  loafers,  and  shoulder-hitters  ?  If  ye 
do,  why,  ye  can  keep  around  these  diggins.  Do  you  want  to  be 
gentlemen  and  independent  citizens  ?  You  do  —then  make  tracks 
for  the  West,  from  the  Children's  Aid  Society.  If  you  want  to 
be  snoozers,  and  rummeys,  and  policy-players,  and  Peter  Funks 
men,  why  you'll  hang  up  your  caps  and  stay  round  the  groceries 
and  jine  fire-engine  and  target  companies,  and  go  firm'  at  hay- 
stacks for  bad  quarters  ;  but  if  ye  want  to  be  the  man  who  will 
make  his  mark  in  the  country,  ye  will  get  up  steam,  and  go 
ahead,  and  there's  lots  on  the  prairies  a  waitin'  for  yez. 

"  '  You  haven't  any  idear  of  what  ye  may  be-  yet,  if  you  will 
only  take  a  bit  of  my  advice.  How  do  you  know  but,  if  you  are 
honest,  and  good,  and  industerous,  you  may  get  so  much  up  in 
the  ranks  that  you  won't  call  a  gineral  or  a  judge  your  boss. 
And  you'll  have  servants  ov  all  kinds  to  tend  you,  to  put  you  to 
bed  when  you  are  sleepy,  and  to  spoon  down  your  vittles  when 
you  are  gettin'  your  grub.  Oh,  boys  !  won't  that  be  great !  Only 
think — to  have  a  feller  to  open  your  mouth,  and  put  great  slices 
of  punkin  pie  and  apple  dumplings  into  it.  You  will  be 
lifted  on  hossback  when  you  go  for  to  take  a  ride  on  the  prairies, 
and  if  you  choose  to  go  in  a  wagon,  or  on  a  'scursion,  you  will 
find  that  the  hard  times  don't  touch  you  there ;  and  the  best  of  it 
will  be  that  if  'tis  good  to-day,  'twill  be  better  to-morrow. 

"  But  how  will  it  be  if  you  don't  go,  boys  ?  Why,  I'm  af eard 
when  you  grow  too  big  to  live  in  the  Lodging-house  any  longer, 
you'll  be  like  lost  sheep  in  the  wilderness,  as  we  heard  of  last 
Sunday  night  here,  and  you'll  maybe  not  find  your  way  out  any 
more.  But  you'll  be  found  somewhere  else.  The  best  of  you 
will  be  something  short  of  judges  and  governors,  and  the  feller 
as  has  the  worst  luck — and  the  worst  behaver  in  the  groceries — 
will  be  very  sure  to  go  from  them  to  the  prisons. 

"I  will  now  come  from  the  stump.    I  am  booked  for  the 


BUILDING-  FUND. 


113 


West  in  the  next  company  from  the  Lodging-house.  I  hear  they 
have  big  school-houses  and  colleges  there,  and  that  they  have  a 
place  for  me  in  the  winter  time ;  I  want  to  be  somebody,  and 
somebody  don't  live  here,  no  how.  You'll  find  him  on  a  farm  in 
the  West,  and  I  hope  you'll  come  to  see  him  soon  and  stop  with 
him  when  you  go,  and  let  every  one  of  yous  be  somebody,  and  be 
loved  and  respected.  I  thank  yous,  boys,  for  your  patient  atten- 
tion.  I  can't  say  more  at  present,  I  hope  I  haven't  said  too  much/  " 

THE  BUILDI^a  FUND. 

An  effort  was  made  in  the  Legislature,  a  few  years 
since,  to  obtain  a  building-fund  for  the  Newsboys' 
Lodging-house.  This  was  granted  from  the  Excise 
Fund  of  the  city  for  the  legitimate  reason,  that  those 
who  do  most  to  form  drunkards  should  be  compelled 
to  aid  in  the  expense  and  care  of  the  children  of 
drunkards.  Thirty  thousand  dollars  were  appropriated 
from  these  taxes,  provided  a  similar  amount  was 
raised  by  private  subscription.  This  sum  was  obtained 
by  the  kindness  and  energy  of  the  friends  of  the  enter- 
prise, and  the  whole  amount  ($60,000)  was  invested 
in  good  securities. 

In  1872  it  had  accumulated  to  $80,000,  and  the  pur- 
chase was  made  of  the  "  Shakespeare  Hotel,"  on  the 
corner  of  Duane  and  Chambers  Streets,  which  is  now 
being  fitted  up  and  rebuilt  as  a  permanent  Lodging- 
house  for  Homeless  Boys.  The  building  has  streets  on 
three  sides,  and,  plenty  of  air  and  light.  Shops  will 
be  let  underneath,  so  that  the  payments  of  the  boys 
and  the  rents  received  will  nearly  defray  the  annual  ex- 
penses of  this  charity,  thus  insuring  its  permanency. 


OHAPTEE  X. 


STREET  GIRLS. 
THEIR  SUFFERINGS  AND  CRIMES, 

A  GIRL  street-rover  is  to  my  mind  the  most  pain- 
ful figure  in  all  the  unfortunate  crowd  of  a  large  city. 
With  a  boy,  "  Arab  of  the  street s,"  one  always  has 
the  consolation  that,  despite  his  ragged  clothes  and 
bed  in  a  box  or  hay-barge?  he  often  has  a  rather  good 
time  of  it,  and  enjoys  many  of  the  delicious  pleasures 
of  a  child's  roving  life,  and  that  a  fortunate  turn  of 
events  may  at  any  time  make  an  honest,  industrious 
fellow  of  him.  At  heart  we  cannot  say  that  he  is 
much  corrupted ;  his  sins  belong  to  his  ignorance  and 
his  condition,  and  are  often  easily  corrected  by  a 
radical  change  of  circumstances.  The  oaths,  tobacco- 
spitting,  and  slang,  and  even  the  fighting  and  stealing 
of  a  street-boy,  are  not  so  bad  as  they  look.  Eefined 
influences,  the  checks  of  religion,  and  a  fairer  chance 
for  existence  without  incessant  struggle,  will  often 
utterly  eradicate  these  evil  habits,  and  the  rough, 
thieving  New  York  vagrant  make  an  honest,  hard- 
working Western  pioneer.    It  is  true  that  sometimes- 


THE  GIRL-VAGRANT. 


115 


the  habit  of  vagrancy  and  idling  may  be  too  deeply 
worked  in  him  for  his  character  to  speedily  reform ; 
but,  if  of  tender  years,  a  change  of  circumstances  will 
nearly  always  bring  a  change  of  character. 

With  a  girl-vagrant  it  is  different.  She  feels 
homelessness  and  friendlessness  more ;  she  has  more 
of  the  feminine  dependence  on  affection ;  the  street- 
trades,  too,  are  harder  for  her,  and  the  return  at  night 
to  some  lonely  cellar  or  tenement-room,  crowded  with 
dirty  people  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  is  more  dreary.  She 
develops  body  and  mind  earlier  than  the  boy,  and 
the  habits  of  vagabondism  stamped  on  her  in  child- 
hood are  more  difficult  to  wear  off. 

Then  the  strange  and  mysterious  subject  of  sexual 
vice  comes  in.  It  has  often  seemed  to  me  one  of  the 
most  dark  arrangements  of  this  singular  world  that  a 
female  child  of  the  poor  should  be  permitted  to  start 
on  its  immortal  career  with  almost  every  influence 
about  it  degrading,  its  inherited  tendencies  over- 
whelming toward  indulgence  of  passion,  its  examples 
'all  of  crime  or  lust,  its  lower  nature  awake  long  before 
its  higher,  and  then  that  it  should  be  allowed  to  soil 
and  degrade  its  soul  before  the  maturity  of  reason, 
and  beyond  all  human  possibility  of  cleansing ! 

For  there  is  no  reality  in  the  sentimental  assertion 
that  the  sexual  sins  of  the  lad  are  as  degrading  as 
those  of  the  girl.  The  instinct  of  the  female  is  more 
toward  the  preservation  of  purity,  and  therefore  her 


116    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

fail  is  deeper — an  instinct  grounded  in  the  desire  of 
preserving  a  stock,  or  even  tlie  necessity  gf  perpetuat- 
ing our  race. 

Still,  were  the  indulgences  of  the  two  sexes  of  a 
similar  character — as  in  savage  races— were  they  both 
following  passion  alone,  the  moral  effect  would  not 
perhaps  be  so  different  in  the  two  cases.  But  the  sin 
of  the  girl  soon  becomes  what  the  Bible  calls  u  a  sin 
against  one's  own  body,7?  the  most  debasing  of  all  sins. 
She  soon  learns  to  offer  for  sale  that  which  is  in  its 
nature  beyond  all  price,  and  to  feign  the  most  sacred 
affections,  and  barter  with  the  most  delicate  instincts. 
She  no  longer  merely  follows  blindly  and  excessively 
an  instinct ;  she  perverts  a  passion  and  sells  herself. 
The  only  parallel  case  with  the  male  sex  would  be  that 
in  some  Eastern  communities  which  are  rotting  and 
falling  to  pieces  from  their  debasing  and  unnatural 
crimes.  When  we  hear  of  such  disgusting  offenses 
under  any  form  of  civilization,  whether  it  be  under 
the  Borne  of  the  Empire,  or  the  Turkey  of  to-day,  we 
know  that  disaster,  ruin,  and  death,  are  near  the  State 
and  the  people. 

This  crime,  with  the  girl,  seems  to  sap  and  rot  the 
whole  nature.  She  loses  self-respect,  without  which 
every  human  being  soon  sinks  to  the  lowest  depths ; 
she  loses  the  habit  of  industry,  and  cannot  be  taught 
to  work.  Having  won  her  food  at  the  table  of  Nature 
by  unnatural  means,  Nature  seems  to  cast  her  out, 


THE  UNFORTUNATE  WOMAN.  117 

and  henceforth  she  cannot  labor.  Living  in  a  state 
of  unnatural  excitement,  often  worked  up  to  a  high 
pitch  of  nervous  tension  by  stimulants,  becoming 
weak  in  body  and  mind,  her  character  loses  fixedness 
of  purpose  and  tenacity  and  true  energy.  The  dia- 
bolical women  who  support  and  plunder  her,  the  vile 
society  she  keeps,  the  literature  she  reads,  the  business 
she  has  chosen  or  fallen  into,  serve  continually  more 
and  more  to  degrade  and  defile  her.  If,  in  a  moment 
of  remorse,  she  flee  away  and  take  honest  work,  her 
weakness  and  bad  habits  follow  her ;  she  is  inefficient, 
careless,  unsteady,  and  lazy  $  she  craves  the  stimulus 
and  hollow  gayety  of  the  wild  life  she  has  led;  her  ill 
name  dogs  her ;  all  the  wicked  have  an  instinct  of 
her  former  evil  courses;  the  world  and  herself  are 
against  reform,  and,  unless  she  chance  to  have  a 
higher  moral  nature  or  stronger  will  than  most  of  her 
class,  or  unless  Eeligion  should  touch  even  her  pol- 
luted soul,  she  soon  falls  back,  and  gives  one  more 
sad  illustration  of  the  immense  difficulty  of  a  fallen 
woman  rising  again.  " 

The  great  majority  of  prostitutes,  it  must  be 
remembered,  have  had  no  romantic  or  sensational 
history,  though  they  always  affect  this.  They  usually 
relate,  and  perhaps  even  imagine,  that  they  have  been 
seduced  from  the  paths  of  virtue  suddenly  and  by  the 
wiles  of  some  heartless  seducer.  Often  they  describe 
themselves  as  belonging  to  some  virtuous,  respectable. 


118   THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


and  even  wealthy  family.  Their  real  history,  however, 
is  much  more  commonplace  and  matter-of-fact.  They 
have  been  poor  women's  daughters,  and  did  not  want 
to  work  as  their  mothers  did ;  or  they  have  grown  up 
in  a  tenement-room,  crowded  with  hoys  and  men,  and 
lost  purity  before  they  knew  what  it  was;  or  they 
have  liked  gay  company,  and  have  had  no  good  influ- 
ences around  them,  and  sought  pleasure  in  criminal 
indulgences ;  or  they  have  been  street-children,  poor, 
neglected,  and  ignorant,  and  thus  naturally  and  inevi- 
tably have  become  depraved  women.  Their  sad  life 
and  debased  character  are  the  natural  outgrowth  of 
poverty,  ignorance,  and  laziness.  The  number  among 
them  who  have  "seen  better  days,"  or  have  fallen 
from  heights  of  virtue,  is  incredibly  small.  They 
show  what  fruits  neglect  in  childhood,  and  want  of 
education  and  of  the  habit  of  labor,  and  the  absence 
of  pure  examples,  will  inevitably  bear.  Yet  in  their 
low  estate  they  always  show  some  of  the  divine 
qualities  of  their  sex.  The  physicians  in  the  Black- 
well's  Island  Hospital  say  that  there  are  no  nurses  so 
tender  and  devoted  to  the  sick  and  dying  as  these 
girls.  And  the  honesty  of  their  dealings  with  the 
washerwomen  and  shopkeepers,  who  trust  them  while 
in  their  vile  houses,  has  often  been  noted. 

The  words  of  sympathy  and  religion  always  touch 
their  hearts,  though  the  effect  passes  like  the  April 
cloud.     On  a  broad  scale,  probably  no  remedy  that 


A  SAD  *  STORY. 


119 


man  could  apply  would  ever  cure  this  fatal  disease  of 
society.  It  may,  however,  be  diminished  in  its  rav- 
ages, and  prevented  in  a  large  measure.  The  check 
to  its  devastations  in  a  laboring  or  poor  class  will  be 
the  facility  of  marriage,  the  opening  of  new  channels 
of  female  work,  but,  above  all,  the  influences  of  educa- 
tion and  Eeligion. 

An  incident  occurred  during  our  early  labors, 
which  is  worth  preserving  : 

EXTRACTS  FROM  JOURNAL  DURING  1854. 
THE  TOMBS. 

"  Mrs.  Forster,  the  excellent  Matron  of  the  Female  Depart- 
ment of  the  prison,  had  told  us  of  an  interesting  young  German 
girl,  committed  for  vagrancy,  who  might  just  at  this  crisis  be 
rescued.  I  entered  these  soiled  and  gloomy  Egyptian  arch- 
ways, so  appropriate  and  so  depressing,  that  the  sight  of  the  low 
columns  and  lotus  capitals  is  to  me  now  inevitably  associated 
with  the  somber  and  miserable  histories  of  the  place. 

"  After  a  short  waiting,  the  girl  was  brought  in — a  German 
girl,  apparently  about  fourteen,  very  thinly  but  neatly  dressed, 
of  slight  figure,  and  a  face  intelligent  and  old  for  her  years,  the 
eye  passionate  and  shrewd.  I  give  details  because  the  conversa- 
tion which  followed  was  remarkable. 

"  The  poor  feel,  but  they  can  seldom  speak.  The  story  she  told, 
with  a  wonderful  eloquence,  thrilled  to  all  our  hearts  ;  it  seemed 
to  us,  then,  like  the  first  articulate  voice  from  the  great  poor 
class  of  the  city. 

"  Her  eye  had  a  hard  look  at  first,  but  softened  when  I  spoke 
to  her  in  her  own  language. 

"  '  Have  you  been  long  here  ?  ' 

" '  Only  two  days,  sir.' 


120    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


"  '  Why  are  you  here  ? ' 

" '  I  will  tell  you,  sir.  I  was  working  out  with  a  lady.  I  had 
to  get  up  early  and  go  to  bed  late,  and  I  never  had  rest.  She 
worked  me  always ;  and,  finally,  because  I  could  not  do  every- 
thing, she  beat  me — she  beat  me  like  a  dog,  and  I  ran  away  •  I 
could  not  bear  it/ 

"  The  manner  of  this  was  wonderfully  passionate  and  elo- 
quent. 

"  i  But  I  thought  you  were  arrested  for  being  near  a  place 
of  bad  character/  said  I. 

" '  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  sir.  The  next  day  I  and  my  father 
went  to  get  some  clothes  I  left  there,  and  the  lady  wouldn't  give 
them  up  ;  and  what  could  we  do  ?  What  can  the  poor  do  ?  My 
father  is  a  poor  old  man,  who  picks  rags  in  the  streets,  and  I 
have  never  picked  rags  yet.  He  said,  "  I  don't  want  you  to  be  a 
rag-picker.  You  are  not  a  child  now — people  will  look  at  you 
— you  will  come  to  harm."  And  I  said, "  No,  father,  I  will  help 
you.  We  must  do  something  now,  I  am  out  of  place  ;  "  and  so  I 
went  out.  I  picked  all  day,  and  didn't  make  much,  and  I  was 
cold  and  hungry.  Towards  night,  a  gentleman  met  me — a  very 
fine,  well-dressed  gentleman,  an  American,  and  he  said,  "  Will 
you  go  home  with  me  ?  "  and  I  said,  "  No."  He  said,  "  I  will  give 
you  twenty  shillings,"  and  I  told  him  I  would  go.  And  the  next 
morning  I  was  taken  up  outside  by  the  officer.' 

" f  Poor  girl ! '  said  some  one,  '  had  you  forgotten  your 
mother  ?  and  what  a  sin  it  was  ! ' 

ts '  No,  sir,  I  did  remember  her.  She  had  no  clothes,  and  I 
had  no  shoes ;  and  I  have  only  this  (she  shivered  in  her  thin 
dress),  and  winter  is  coming  on.  I  know  what  making  money  is, 
sir.  I  am  only  fourteen,  but  I  am  old  enough.  I  have  had  to 
take  care  of  myself  ever  since  I  was  ten  years  old,  and  I  have 
never  had  a  cent  given  me.  It  may  be  a  sin,  sir  (and  the  tears 
rained  down  her  cheeks,  which  she  did  not  try  to  wipe  away). 
I  do  not  ask  you  to  forgive  it.  Men  can't  forgive,  but  God  will 
forgive.    I  know  about  men. 

"  \  The  rich  do  such  things  and  worse,  and  no  one  says  any- 
thing against  them.  But  I,  sir — lam  'poor!  (This  she  said  with 
a  tone  which  struck  the  very  heart-strings.)  I  have  never  had 
any  one  to  take  care  of  me.  Many  is  the  day  I  have  gone  hungry 


OLD  IN  MISERY. 


121 


from  morning  till  night,  because  I  did  not  dare  spend  a  cent  or 
two,  the  only  ones  I  had.  Oh,  I  have  wished  sometimes  so  to  die  ! 
Why  does  not  God  kill  me  ?  ' 

"  She  was  choked  by  her  sobs.  We  let  her  calm  herself  a 
moment,  and  then  told  her  our  plan  of  finding  her  a  good  home, 
where  she  could  make  an  honest  living.  She  was  mistrustful. 
•  I  will  tell  you,  meine  Her r en  ;  I  know  men,  and  I  do  not  believe 
any  one,  I  have  been  cheated  so  often.  There  is  no  trust  in  any 
one.  I  am  not  a  child.  I  have  lived  as  long  as  people  twice  as  old/ 

"  f  But  you  do  not  wish  to  stay  in  prison  ? ' 

" '  0  God,  no  !  Oh,  there  is  such  a  weight  on  my  heart  here. 
There  is  nothing  but  bad  to  learn  in  prison.  These  dirty  Irish 
girls  !  I  would  kill  myself  if  I  had  to  stay  here.  Why  was  I 
ever  born  ?  I  have  such  Kummerniss  (woes)  here  (she  pressed 
her  hand  on  her  heart) — I  am  poor  ! ' 

"We  explained  our  plan  more  at  length,  and  she  became 
satisfied.    We  wished  her  to  be  bound  to  stay  some  years. 

"'No,  'said  she,  passionately/ 1  cannot;  I  confess  to  you, 
gentlemen.    I  should  either  run  away  or  die,  if  I  was  bound/ 

"  We  talked  with  the  matron.  She  had  never  known,  she 
said,  in  her  experience,  such  a  remarkable  girl.  The  children 
there  of  nine  or  ten  years  were  often  as  old  as  young  women, 
but  this  girl  was  an  experienced  woman.  The  offense,  however, 
she  had  no  doubt  was  her  first. 

"  We  obtained  her  release  ;  and  one  of  us,  Mr.  G.,  walked 
over  to  her  house  or  cabin,  some  three  miles  on  the  other  side  of 
Williamsburgh,  in  order  that  she  might  see  her  parents  before 
she  went  to  her  new  home. 

!  "  As  she  walked  along,  she  looked  up  in  Mr.  G.'s  face,  and 
asked,  thoughtfully,  Why  we  came  there  for  her  ?  He  explained. 
She  listened,  and  after  a  little  while,  said,  in  broken  English, 
'  Don't  you  think  better  for  poor  little  girls  to  die  than  live  ? '  He 
spoke  kindly  to  her,  and  said  something  about  a  good  God.  She 
shook  her  head,  '  No,  no  good  God.  Why  am  I  so  ?  It  always 
was  so.  Why  much  suffer,  if  good  God?'  He  told  her  they 
would  get  her  a  supper,  and  in  the  morning  she  should  start  off 
and  find  new  friends.  She  became  gradually  almost  ungov- 
erned — sobbed — would  like  to  die,  even  threatened  suicide  in 
this  wild  way. 

P;:  6  ,    '        •  ■  *- 


122    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


"  Kindness  and  calm  words  at  length  made  her  more  reason- 
able. After  much  trouble,  they  reached  the  home  or  den  of  the 
poor  rag-picker.  The  parents  were  very  grateful,  and  she  was 
to  start  off  the  next  morning  to  a  country  home,  where,  perhaps 
finally,  the  parents  will  join  her. 

"  For  myself,  the  evening  shadow  seemed  more  somber,  and 
the  cheerful  home-lights  less  cheerful,  as  I  walked  home,  remem- 
bering such  a  history. 

"  Ye  who  are  happy,  whose  lives  have  been  under  sunshine 
and  gentle  influences  around  whom  Affection,  and  Piety,  and 
Love  have  watched,  as  ye  gather  in  cheerful  circles  these  autumn 
evenings,  think  of  these  bitter  and  friendless  children  of  the 
poor,  in  the  great  city.  But  few  have  such  eloquent  expres- 
sions as  this  poor  girl,  yet  all  inarticulately  feel. 

'  There  are  sad  histories  beneath  this  gay  world — lives  over 
which  is  the  very  shadow  of  death,  God  be  thanked,  there  is 
a  Heart  which  feels  for  them  all,  where  every  pang  and  groan 
will  find  a  sympathy,  which  will  one  day  right  the  wrong,  and 
bring  back  the  light  over  human  life. 

"  The  day  is  short  for  us  all ;  but  for  some  it  will  be  a  pleas- 
ant thought,  when  we  come  to  lay  down  our  heads  at  last,  that 
we  have  eased  a  few  aching  hearts,  and  brought  peace  and  new 
hope  to  the  dark  lives  of  those  whom  men  had  forgotten  or  cast 
out." 


THE  STREET-GIRL'S  EOT), 


CHAPTEE  XI. 


LEGAL  TREATMENT  OF  PROSTITUTES. 
SHOULD  LICENSES  BE  ALLOWED  ? 

The  question  of  the  best  mode  of  legally  control- 
ling the  great  evil  of  prostitution,  and  confining  its 
bad  physical  effects,  is  a  very  difficult  one. 

The  merely  philosophical  inquirer,  or  even  the  phy- 
sician, regarding  humanity  "in  the  broad,"  comes 
naturally  to  the  conclusion  that  this  offense  is  one  of 
the  inevitable  evils  which  always  have  followed,  and 
always  will  follow,  the  track  of  civilization;  that 
it  is  to  be  looked  upon,  like  small-pox  or  scarlet 
fever,  as  a  disease  of  civilized  man,  and  is  to  be 
treated  accordingly,  by  physical  and  scientific  means, 
and  must  be  controlled,  as  it  cannot  be  uprooted, 
by  legislation.  Or  they  regarcj.  it  as  they  do  intox- 
ication, as  the  effect  of  a  misdirected  natural  desire, 
which  is  everywhere  thought  to  be  a  legitimate  object 
both  of  -permission  or  recognition  by  government,  as 
well  as  of  check  by  rigid  laws. 

If  medical  men,  their  minds  are  almost  exclusively 
directed  toward  the  frightful  effects  on  society  and 
upon  the  innocent,  of  the  diseases  which  attend  this 


124    THE  DANGKEROTTS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

offense.  They  see  that  legislation  would  at  once  check 
the  ravages  from  these  terrible  maladies,  and  that  a 
system  of  licenses  such  as  is  practiced  in  the  Conti- 
nental cities  would  prevent  them  from  spreading 
through  society  and  punishing  those  who  had  never 
sinned.  As  scientific  healers  of  human  maladies,  they 
feel  that  anything  is  a  gain  which  lessens  human  suf- 
fering, controls  disease,  and  keeps  up  the  general 
health  of  the  community. 

Their  position,  too,  has  been  strengthened  by  the 
foolish  and  superstitious  arguments  of  their  opponents. 
It  has  been  claimed  that  syphilitic  disorders  are  a 
peculiar  and  supernatural  punishment  for  sin  and 
%Tong-doing;  that  by  interfering  with  their  legitimate 
action  on  the  guilty,  we  presume  to  diminish  the  pun- 
ishments inflicted  by  the  Almighty ;  and,  in  so  far  as 
we  cure  or  restrain  these  diseases,  we  lessen  one  great 
sanction  which  nature  and  Providence  have  placed 
before  the  infraction  of  the  law  of  virtue.  , 

The  medical  man,  however,  replies  very  pertinently 
that  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Divine  sanctions  ; 
that  his  business  is  to  cure  human  diseases  and  lessen 
human  suffering  wherever  he  find  them;  and  that 
gout,  or  rheumatism,  or  diphtheria,  or  scarlet  fever, 
are  as  much  u  punishments^  as  the  diseases  of  this 
vice.  If  he  refused  to  visit  a  patient  whenever  he 
thought  that  his  sins  had  brought  upon  him  his  dis- 
eases, he  would  have  very  little  occupation,  and  man- 


THE  QUESTION  OF  LICENSE. 


125 


kind  would  receive  very  little  alleviation  from  the 
medical  art.  Nor  is  lie  even  called  upon  to  refuse  to 
cure  a  patient  who,  he  knows,  will  immediately  begin 
again  his  evil  courses.  The  physician  is  not  a  judge 
or  an  executioner.  He  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  cure 
and  alleviate.  Influenced  by  this  aspect  of  his  duty, 
the  medical  man  almost  universally  advocates  licenses 
to  prostitutes,  based  on  medical  examination,  and  a 
strict  legal  control  of  the  participants  in  this  offense. 

On  the  other  hand,  those  of  us  who  deal  with  the 
moral  aspects  of  the  case,  and  who  know  the  class 
that  are  ruined  body  and  soul  by  this  criminal  busi- 
ness, have  a  profound  dread  of  anything  which,  to 
the  young,  should  appear  to  legalize  or  approve,  or 
even  recognize  it.  The  worst  evil  in  prostitution  is  to 
the  woman,  and  the  worst  element  in  that  is  moral 
rather  than  physical. 

The  man  has  the  tremendous  responsibility  on  his 
soul  of  doing  his  part  in  helping  to  plunge  a  human 
being  into  the  lowest  depths  of  misery  and  moral  deg- 
radadation.  He  has  also  all  the  moral  responsibility 
which  the  Divine  law  of  purity  places  on  each  indi- 
vidual, and  the  further  burden  of  possibly  causing 
disease  hereafter  to  the  innocent  and  virtuous. 

But  the  woman  who  pursues  this  as  a  business  has 
seldom  any  hope  in  this  world,  either  of  mental  or 
moral  health.  The  class,  as  a  class,  are  the  most  des- 
perate and  unfortunate  which  reformatory  agencies 


126    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

ever  touch.  Now,  any  Mend  of  the  well-being  of 
society,  knowing  the  strength  of  men's  passions,  and 
the  utter  misery  and  degradation  of  these  victims  of 
them,  will  dread  any  public  measure  or  legislation 
which  will  tend  to  weaken  the  respect  of  young  men 
for  virtue,  or  to  make  this  offense  looked  upon  as  per- 
missible, or  which  will  add  to  the  number  of  these 
wretched  women  by  diminishing  the  public  and  legal 
condemnation  of  their  debasing  traffic. 

Among  the  large  class  of  poor  and  ignorant  girls 
in  a  large  city  who  are  always  just  on  the  line  between 
virtue  and  vice,  who  can  say  how  many  more  would 
be  plunged  into  this  abyss  of  misery  by  an  apparent 
legal  approval  or  recognition  of  the  offense  through  a 
system  of  license  ?  Among  the  thousand  young  men 
who  are  under  incessant  temptations  in  a  city  like 
this,  who  can  say  how  many  are  saved  by  the  con- 
sciousness that  this  offense  is  looked  upon  both  by 
morality  and  law  as  an  offense,  and  is  not  even  recog- 
nized as  permissible  and  legal  ?  A  city  license  consti- 
stutes  a  profession  of  prostitutes.  The  law  and  opinion 
recognize  them.  The  evil  becomes  more  fixed  by  its 
public  recognition. 

It  is  true  that  prostitution  will  always,  in  all  proba- 
bility, attend  civilization ;  but  so  will  all  other  sins 
and  offenses.  It  may  be  possible,  however,  to  dimin- 
ish and  control  it.  It  is  already  immensely  checked 
in  this  country,  as  compared  with  continental  coun- 


DISEASES  OF  VICE.  127 

tries,  partly  through  economical  and  partly  through 
moral  causes.  It  has  been  diminished  among  the 
daughters  of  the  lowest  poor  in  this  city  by  the  "  In- 
dustrial Schools."  Why  should  it  be  increased  and 
established  by  legal  recognition  ? 

We  admit  that  the  present  condition  of  the  whole 
matter  in  New  York  is  terrible.  The  humanity  and 
science  which  ought  to  minister  to  the  prostitute  as 
freely  as  to  any  other  class,  are  refused  to  her  by  the 
public,  unless  she  apply  as  a  pauper.  The  consequence 
is,  that  the  fearful  diseases  which  follow  this  offense, 
like  avenging  Furies,  have  spread  through  not  only 
this  class  of  women,  but  have  been  communicated  to 
the  virtuous  and  innocent,  and  are  undermining  the 
health  of  society.    This  fact  is  notorious  to  physicians. 

Now  we  think  a  reasonable  u  middle  course"  might 
be  pursued  in  this  matter  ;  that,  for  instance,  greater 
conveniences  for  medical  attendance  and  advice  in  the 
city  (and  not  on  BlackwelFs  Island)  might  be  afforded 
by  our  authorities  to  this  class,  both  as  a  matter  of 
humanity  and  as  a  safeguard  to  the  public  health.  If 
there  was  a  hospital  or  a  dispensary  for  such  cases 
within  the  city,  it  would  avoid  the  disgrace  and  pub- 
licity of  each  patient  reporting  herself  to  the  court  as 
a  pauper,  and  then  being  sent  to  the  Island  Hospital. 
Hundreds  more  would  present  themselves  for  attend- 
ance and  treatment  than  do  now,  and  the  public  health 
be  proportionately  improved.     No  moral  sanction 


128    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

would  thus  be  given  to  this  demoralizing  and  degrad- 
ing business.  The  simple  duties  of  humanity  would 
be  performed. 

The  advocates  of  the  license  system  would  still 
reply?  however,  that  such  a  hospital  would  not  meet 
the  evil ;  that  Law  only  can  separate  the  sickly  from 
the  healthy,  and  thus  guard  society  from  the  pesti- 
lence ;  and  the  only  law  which  could  accomplish  this 
would  be  a  strict  system  of  license.  The  friend  of 
public  order,  however,  would  urge  that  a  wise  legis- 
lator cannot  consider  physical  well-being  alone:  he 
must  regard  also  the  moral  tendencies  of  laws ;  and 
the  influence  of  a  license  system  for  prostitution  is 
plainly  toward  recognizing  this  offense  as  legal  or 
permissible.  It  removes  indirectly  one  of  the  safe- 
guards of  virtue. 

Perhaps  the  reductio  ad  ahsurdum  in  the  relation  of 
the  State  with  a  criminal  class,  and  of  the  Church 
with  the  State,  was  never  so  absurdly  shown  as  in  the 
Berlin  license  laws  for  prostitutes,  twenty  years  since. 
According  to  these,  in  their  final  result,  no  woman 
could  be  a  prostitute  who  had  not  partaken  of  the 
communion ! — that  is,  the  Schein,  or  license,  was  never 
given  to  this  business  any  more  than  to  any  other, 
except  on  evidence  of  the  person's  having  been  u  con- 
firmed," or  being  a  member  of  the  State  Church,  that 
is,  a  citizen!  This  classing,  however,  the  trade  of 
prostitution  with  peddling,  or  any  other  business 


BERLIN  LICENSE  LAWS. 


129 


needing  a  license,  did  not  in  the  least  tend,  so  far  as 
we  have  ever  heard,  to  elevate  the  women,  or  save 
them  from  moral  and  mental  degradation.  On  the 
contrary,  the  universal  law  of  Providence  that  man 
or  woman  must  live  by  labor,  and  that  any  unnatural 
substitute  for  it  saps  and  weakens  all  power  and  vigor, 
applies  to  this  class  in  Continental  cities  as  much  as 
here.  Without  doubt,  too,  wherever  the  Germanic 
races  are,  no  degree  of  legalizing  this  traffic  can 
utterly  do  away  with  the  public  sentence  of  scorn 
against  the  female  participants  in  it;  and  the  con- 
tempt of  the  virtuous  naturally  depresses  the  vicious. 

*The  "  public  woman-7  has  a  far  greater  chance  of 
recovery  in  France  or  Italy  than  in  Germany,  Eng- 
land, or  America.  Still,  the  wise  legislator,  though 
regretting  the  depression  which  this  public  sentiment 
causes  to  the  vicious  classes,  cannot  but  value  it  as  a 
safeguard  of  virtue,  and  will  be  very  cautious  how  he 
weakens  it  by  legislation. 

There  is,  no  doubt,  some  force  in  the  position  that 
the  non-licensing  of  these  -houses  is  in  some  degree  a 
terror  to  the  community,  and  that  the  cautious  and 
prudent  are  kept  from  the  offense  through  fear  of  pos- 
sible consequences  in  disease  and  infection.  This, 
however,  does  not  seem  to  us  an  object  which  legisla- 
tors can  hold  before  them  as  compared  with  the  duties 
of  humanity  in  curing  and  preventing  disease  and 
pestilence.    They  have  nothing  to  do  with  adding  to 


130    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

the  natural  penalties  of  sin,  or  with  punishing  sinners. 
They  are  concerned  only  with  human  law.  But  they 
have  the  right,  and,  as  it  seems  to  us,  the  duty,  so  to 
legislate  as  not  to  encourage  so  great  an  evil  as  this 
of  prostitution.  And  licensing,  it  seems  to  us,  has 
that  tendency.  It  certainly  has  had  it  in  Paris,  where 
it  has  been  tried  to  its  full  extent,  and  surely  no  one 
could  claim  the  population  of  that  city  as  a  model  to 
any  nation,  whether  in  physical  or  moral  power. 

Bad  as  London  is  in  this  matter — not,  however,  so 
much  through  defect  of  licensing  as  through  want  of 
a  proper  street-police — we  do  not  believe  there  is  so 
wide-spread  a  degradation  among  poor  women  as  in 
Berlin. 

New  York,  in  our  judgment,  is  superior  to  any 
great  city  in  its  smaller  prostitute  class,  and  the  vir- 
tue of  its  laboring  poor.  Something  of  this,  of  course, 
is  due  to  our  superior  economical  conditions;  some- 
thing to  the  immense  energy  and  large  means  thrown 
into  our  preventive  agencies,  but  much  also  to  the 
public  opinion  prevailing  in  all  classes  in  regard  to 
this  vice.  Our  wealthy  classes,  we  believe,  and  cer- 
tainly our  middle  classes,  have  a  higher  sentiment  in 
regard  to  the  purity  both  of  man  and  woman  than 
any  similar  classes  in  the  civilized  world.  More  per- 
sons relatively  marry,  and  marriages  are  happier. 
This  is  equally  true  of  the  upper  laboring  classes.  If 
it  is  not  true  of  the  lowest  poor,  this  results  from  two 


CONDITION  OF  NEW  YORK. 


131 


great  local  evils — Overcrowding,  and  the  bad  influ- 
ences of  Emigration.  Still,  even  with  these,  the  poor 
of  New  York  compare  favorably  in  virtue  with  those 
of  Paris,  Berlin,  or  Vienna.  Now,  how  large  a  part 
of  the  public  opinion  which  thus  preserves  both  ends 
of  society  from  vice  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  we 
have  not  recognized  the  greatest  offense  against  purity 
by  any  permissive  legislation  ?  The  business  is  still 
regarded,  in  law,  as  outside  of  good  morals  and  not 
even  to  be  tacitly  allowed  by  license. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  BEST  PREVENTIVE  OF  VICE  AMONGr  CHILDREN. 
INDUSTRIAL  SCHOOLS. 

As  a  simple,  practical  measure  to  save  from  vice 
the  girls  of  the  honest  poor,  nothing  has  ever  been 
equal  to  the  Industrial  School. 

Along  with  our  effort  for  homeless  hoys,  I  early 
attempted  to  found  a  comprehensive  organization  of 
Schools  for  the  needy  and  ragged  little  girls  of  the 
city. 

Though  our  Free  Schools  are  open  to  all,  experi- 
ence has  taught  that  vast  numbers  of  children  are  so 
ill-clothed  and  destitute  that  they  are  ashamed  to 
attend  these  excellent  places  of  instruction ;  or  their 
mothers  are  obliged  to  employ  them  during  parts  of 
the  day  ;  or  they  are  begging,  or  engaged  in  street 
occupations,  and  will  not  attend,  or,  if  they  do,  attend 
very  irregularly.  Yery  many  are  playing  about  the 
docks  or  idling  in  the  streets. 

Twenty  years  ago,  nothing  seemed  to  check  this 
evil.  Captain  Matsell,  in  the  celebrated  report  I  have 
alluded  to,  estimated  the  number  of  vagrant  children 
as  10,000,  and  subsequently  in  later  years,  the  esti- 


NEED  OF  A  SCHOOL. 


133 


mate  was  as  high  as  30,000.  The  commitments  for 
vagrancy  were  enormous,  reaching  in  one  year  (1857), 
for  females  alone,  3,449 ;  in  1859,  5,778 ;  and  in  1860, 
5,880.  In  these  we  have  not  the  exact  number  of 
children,  but  it  was  certainly  very  large. 

What  was  needed  to  check  crime  and  vagrancy 
among  young  girls  was  some  School  of  Industry  and 
Morals,  adapted  for  the  class. 

Many  were  ashamed  to  go  to  the  Public  Schools ; 
they  were  too  irregular  for  their  rules.  They  needed 
some  help  in  the  way  of  food  and  clothing,  much 
direct  moral  instruction  and  training  in  industry; 
while  their  mothers  required  to  be  stimulated  by  earn- 
est appeals  to  their  consciences  to  induce  them  to 
school  them  at  all.  Agents  must  be  sent  around  to 
gather  the  children,  and  to  persuade  the  parents  to 
educate  their  offspring.  It  was  manifest  that  the  Pub- 
lic Schools  were  not  adapted  to  meet  all  these  wants, 
and  indeed  the  mingling  of  any  eleemosynary  features 
in  our  public  educational  establishments  would  have 
been  injudicious.  As  our  infant  Society  had  no 
funds,  my  effort  was  to  found  something  at  first  by 
outside  help,  with  the  hope  subsequently  of  obtaining  a 
permanent  support  for  the  new  enterprises,  and  bring- 
ing them  under  the  supervision  of  the  parent  Society. 

The  agencies  which  we  sought  to  found  were  the 
Industrial  Schools,  which  I  shall  now  attempt  to 
describe. 


134    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Each  one  of  these  humble  charities  has  a  history 
of  its  own — a  history  known  only  to  the  poor — of 
sacrifice,  patience,  and  labor. 

Some  of  the  most  gifted  women  of  E"ew  York,  of 
high  position  and  fortune,  as  well  as  others  of  remark- 
able character  and  education,  have  poured  forth  with- 
out stint  their  services  of  love  in  connection  with 
these  ministrations  of  charity. 

THE  WILSON  SCHOOL. 

The  School  to  which  allusion  has  already  been 
made  on  page  83,  as  growing  out  of  the  Boys'  Meet- 
ing in  Sixth  Street,  and  afterwards  in  Avenue  D,  was 
the  first  of  these  Schools,  and  owes  its  origin  espe- 
cially to  a  lady  of  great  executive  power,  Mrs.  Wilson, 
wife  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wilson.  It  has  always  been  an 
exceedingly  successful  and  efficient  School.  It  was 
formed  in  February,  1853,  the  writer  assisting1  in  its 
organization,  and  was  carried  on  outside  of  the  Society 
whose  history  I  am  sketching. 

THE  ROOKERIES  OF  THE  EOTTRTH  WARD — A  REMEDY. 

In  visiting  from  lane  to  lane  and  house  to  house  in 
our  poorest  quarters,  I  soon  came  to  know  one  district 
which  seemed  hopelessly  given  over  to  vice  and  mis- 
ery— the  region  radiating  out  from  or  near  to  Franklin 
Square,  especially  such  streets  as  Cherry,  Water, 
Dover,  Eoosevelt,  and  the  neighboring  lanes.  Here 
were  huge  barracks — one  said  to  contain  some  1,500 


FOURTH  WARD  DENS. 


135 


persons — underground  cellars,  crowded  with  people, 
and  old  rickety  houses  always  having  "  a  double"  on 
the  rear  lot,  so  as  more  effectually  to  shut  out  light 
and  air.  Here  were  as  many  liquor-shops  as  houses, 
and  those  worst  dens  of  vice,  the  "  Dance-Saloons," 
where  prostitution  was  in  its  most  brazen  form,  and 
the  unfortunate  sailors  were  continually  robbed  or 
murdered.  Nowhere  in  the  city  were  so  many  mur- 
ders committed,  or  was  every  species  of  crime  so  rife. 
Never,  however,  in  this  villainous  quarter,  did  I  expe- 
rience the  slightest  annoyance  in  my  visits,  nor  did 
any  one  of  the  ladies  who  subsequently  ransacked 
every  den  and  hole  where  a  child  could  shelter  itself. 

My  own  attention  was  early  arrested  by  the  number 
of  wild  ragged  little  girls  who  were  flitting  about 
through  these  lanes;  some  with  basket  and  poker 
gathering  rags,  some  apparently  seeking  chances  of 
stealing,  and  others  doing  errands  for  the  dance- 
saloons  and  brothels,  or  hanging  about  their  doors. 
The  police  were  constantly  arresting  them  as  "  va- 
grants," when  the  mothers  would  beg  them  off  from 
the  good-natured  Justices,  and  promise  to  train  them 
better  in  future.  They  were  evidently  fast  training, 
however,  for  the  most  abandoned  life.  It  seemed  to 
me  if  I  could  only  get  the  refinement,  education,  and 
Christian  enthusiasm  of  the  better  classes  fairly  to 
work  here  among  these  children,  these  terrible  evils 
might  be  corrected  at  least  for  the  next  generation. 


136   THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

I  accordingly  went  about  from  house  to  house  among 
ladies  whom  I  had  known,  and,  representing  the  con- 
dition of  the  Ward,  induced  them  to  attend  a  meeting 
of  ladies  to  be  held  at  the  house  of  a  prominent  phy- 
sician, whose  wife  had  kindly  offered  her  rooms. 

For  some  months  I  had  attempted  to  prepare  the 
public  mind  for  these  labors  by  incessant  writing  for 
the  daily  papers,  by  lectures  and  by  sermons  in  various 
pulpits.  Experience  soon  showed  that  the  most  effect- 
ive mode  of  making  real  the  condition  of  the  poorest 
class,  was  by  relating  incidents  from  real  life  which 
continually  presented  themselves. 

The  rich  and  fortunate  had  hardly  conceived  the 
histories  of  poverty,  suffering,  and  loneliness  which 
were  constantly  passing  around  them. 

The  hope  and  effort  of  the  writer  was  to  connect 
the  two  extremes  of  society  in  sympathy,  and  carry 
the  forces  of  one  class  down  to  lift  up  the  other.  For 
this  two  things  were  necessary — one  to  show  the  duty 
which  Christ  especially  teaches  of  sacrifice  to  the  poor 
for  His  sake,  and  the  value  which  He  attaches  to  each 
human  soul;  and  the  other  to  free  the  whole,  as  much 
as  possible,  from  any  sectarian  or  dogmatic  character. 
Nothing  but  "the  enthusiasm  of  humanity v  inspired 
by  Christ  could  lead  the  comfortable  and  the  fastidious 
to  such  disagreeable  scenes  and  hard  labors  as  would 
meet  them  here.  It  was  necessary  to  feel  that  many 
comforts  must  be  foregone,  and  much  leisure  given 


UNSECTARIANISM. 


137 


up,  for  this  important  work.  Very  unpleasant  sights 
were  to  be  met  with,  coarse  people  to  be  encountered, 
and  rude  children  managed ;  the  stern  facts  of  filth, 
vice,  and  crime  to  be  dealt  with. 

It  was  not  to  be  a  mere  holiday- work,  or  a  sudden 
gush  of  sentiment ;  but,  to  be  of  use,  it  must  be  pa- 
tiently continued,  week  by  week,  and  month  by 
month,  and  year  by  year,  with  some  faint  resemblance 
to  that  patience  and  love  which  we  believed  a  Higher 
One  had  exercised  towards  us.  But,  with  this  inspir- 
ation, as  carefully  as  possible,  all  dogmatic  limitation 
must  be  avoided.  All  sects  were  invited  to  take  a 
share  in  the  work,  and,  as  the  efforts  were  necessarily 
directed  to  the  most  palpable  and  terrible  evils,  the 
means  used  by  all  would  be  essentially  the  same. 
Even  those  of  no  defined  religious  belief  were  gladly 
welcomed  if  they  were  ready  to  do  the  offices  of 
humanity.  The  fact  that  ninety-nine  hundredths  of 
these  poor  people  were  Eoman  Catholics  compelled  us 
also  to  confine  ourselves  to  the  most  simple  and  funda- 
mental instructions,  and  to  avoid,  in  any  way,  arous- 
ing religious  bigotry. 

In  the  meeting,  gathered  at  the  house  of  Dr.  P., 
were  prominent  ladies  from  all  the  leading  sects. 

An  address  was  delivered  by  the  writer,  and  then 
a  constitution  presented,  of  the  simplest  nature,  and 
an  association  organized  and  officers  appointed  by  the 
ladies  present.   This  was  the  foundation  of  the 


138    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

"FOTXRTH  WABD  IKDTJSTHIAL  SCHOOL." 

In  the  meanwhile,  we  went  forth  through "  the 
slums  of  the  ward,  and  let  it  be  widely  known  that  a 
School  to  teach  work,  and  where  food  was  given  daily, 
and  clothes  were  bestowed  to  the  well-behaved,  was 
just  ^orming. 

Our  room  was  in  the  basement  of  a  church  in 
Roosevelt  Street.  Hither  gathered,  on  a  morning  in 
December,  1853,  our  ladies  and  a  nock  of  the  most 
ill-clad  and  wildest  little  street-girls  that  could  be 
collected  anywhere  in  New  York.  They  flew  over  the 
benches,  they  swore  and  fought  with  one  another,  they 
bandied  vile  language,  and  could  hardly  be  tamed 
down  sufficiently  to  allow  the  school  to  be  opened. 

Few  had  shoes,  all  were  bonnetless,  their  dresses 
were  torn,  ragged,  and  dirty;  their  hair  tangled,  and 
faces  long  unwashed;  they  had,  many  of  them,  a 
singularly  wild  and  intense  expression  of  eye  and 
feature,  as  of  half-tamed  creatures,  with  passions 
aroused  beyond  their  years. 

The  dress  and  ornaments  of  the  ladies  seemed  to 
excite  their  admiration  greatly.  ^  It  was  observed  that 
they  soon  hid  or  softened  their  own  worst  peculiarities. 
They  evidently  could  not  at  first  understand  the 
motive  which  led  so  many  of  a  far  higher  and  better 
class  to  come  to  help  them.  The  two  regular  and 
salaried  teachers  took  the  discipline  in  hand  gently 
and  firmly.   The  ladies  soon  had  their  little  classes, 


OUR  VOLUNTEERS. 


139 


each  gathered  quietly  about  the  one  instructing.  As 
a  general  thing,  the  ladies  took  upon  themselves  the 
industrial  branches — sewing,  knitting,  crocheting,  and 
the  like ;  this  gave  them  also  excellent  opportunities 
for  moral  instruction,  and  winning  the  sympathy  of 
the  children. 

As  these  ladies,  many  of  them  of  remarkable  char- 
acter and  culture,  began  to  show  the  fruits  of  a  high 
civilization  to  these  poor  little  barbarians,  the  thought 
seemed  to  strike  them — though  hardly  capable  of 
being  expressed — that  here  was  a  goodness  and  piety 
they  had  never  known  or  conceived.  This  offspring 
of  poverty  and  crime  vailed  their  vices  and  bad  habits 
before  these  angels.  They  felt  a  new  impulse — to  be 
worthy  of  their  noble  friends.  The  idea  of  unselfish 
Love  dawned  on  their  souls ;  they  softened  and  became 
respectful.  So  it  continued ;  each  day  the  wild  little 
beggars  became  more  disciplined  and  controlled  ;  they 
began  to  like  study  and  industry ;  they  were  more 
anxious  to  be  clean  and  neatly  dressed ;  they  checked 
their  tongues,  and,  in  some  degree,  their  tempers; 
they  showed  affection  and  gratitude  to  their  teachers; 
their  minds  awakened;  most  of  all,  their  moral  faculties. 
The  truths  of  Religion  or  of  morals,  especially  when 
dramatized  in  stories  and  incidents,  reached  them. 

And  no  words  can  adequately  picture  the  amount 
of  loving  service  and  patient  sacrifice  which  was 
poured  out  by  these  ladies  in  this  effort  among  the 


140    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

poor  of  the  Fourth  Ward.  They  never  spared  them- 
selves or  their  means.  Some  came  down  every  day 
to  help  in  the  school ;  some  twice  in  the  week ;  they 
were  there  in  all  weathers,  and  never  wearied.  Three 
of  the  number  offered  up  their  lives  in  these  labors 
of  humanity,  and  died  in  harness. 

A  most  gifted  intellectual  family,  the  S  s, 

supplied  some  of  our  most  devoted  workers ;  the  wife, 
since  deceased,  of  one  of  our  leading  merchants  and 
public  men,  himself  a  man  much  loved  for  his  gen- 
erosity, occupied  the  place  of  one  of  the  Directresses ; 
the  wife  of  a  prominent  physician  was  our  Treasurer. 
A  young  lady  of  fortune,  since  dead,  Miss  GL,  took  the 
hardest  labors  upon  herself.  The  wife  of  a  gentleman 
since  Governor  and  United  States  Senator,  was  in 
especial  charge  of  the  house,  and  dreaded  no  labor  of 
humanity,  however  disagreeable.  Two  others,  sisters, 
who  represented  one  of  our  most  honored  historical 
families,  but  whose  characters  needed  no  help  of 
genealogy  to  make  them  esteemed  by  all,  threw  them- 
selves into  the  work  with  characteristic  earnestness. 
Another  of  that  family,  which  has  furnished  the 
pioneer  of  all  reform-work  among  the  youthful 
criminals,  and  in  criminal  law,  and  which  in  the 
early  days  of  our  history  so  often  led  public  affairs, 
visited  from  house  to  house  among  the  miserable  poor 
of  the  ward,  and  twice  found  herself  face  to  face  with 
small-pox  in  its  most  virulent  form. 


EFFECTS  OF  THE  SCHOOL. 


141 


The  effects  of  this  particular  School  upon  the 
morals  of  the  juvenile  population  of  the  Fourth  Ward 
were  precisely  what  they  have  always  been  in  simi- 
lar schools.  These  little  girls,  who  might  be  said  to  be 
almost  the  inmates  of  the  brothels,  and  who  grew  up 
in  an  atmosphere  of  crime  and  degradation,  scarcely 
ever,  when  mature,  joined  the  ranks  of  their  sisters 
and  neighbors.  Though  living  in  the  same  houses 
with  the  gay  dance-saloons,  they  avoided  them  as  they 
would  pestilential  places.  Trained  to  industry  and 
familiar  with  the  modest  and  refined  appearance  of 
pure  women  in  the  schools,  they  had  no  desire  for  the 
society  of  these  bold  girls,  or  to  earn  their  living  in 
this  idle  and  shameful  manner.  They  felt  the  disgrace 
of  the  abandoned  life  around  them,  and  were  soon 
above  it.  Though  almost  invariably  the  children  of 
drunkards,  they  did  not  inherit  the  appetites  of  their 
mothers,  or  if  they  did,  their  new  training  substituted 
higher  and  stronger  desires.  They  were  seldom 
known  to  have  the  habit  of  drinking  as  they  grew  up. 
Situations  were  continually  found  for  them  in  the 
country,  or  they  secured  places  for  themselves  as  serv- 
ants in  respectable  families ;  and,  becoming  each  day 
more  used  to  better  circumstances  and  more  neatly 
dressed,  they  had  little  desire  to  visit  their  own 
wretched  homes  and  remain  in  their  families.  Now 
and  then  there  would  be  a  fall  from  virtue  among 
them,  but  the  cases  were  very  few  indeed.   As  they 


142    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

grew  up  they  married  young  mechanics  or  farmers, 
and  were  soon  far  above  the  class  from  which  they 
sprang.  Such  were  the  fruits  in  general  of  the  patient, 
self-denying  labors  of  these.ladies  in  the  Fourth  Ward 
School. 

One  most  self-sacrificing  and  heroic  man,  a  physi- 
cian, Dr.  Eobert  Ray,  devoted  his  education  and 
something  of  his  fortune  to  these  benevolent  efforts, 
and  died  while  in  the  harness.  Singularly  enough,  I 
never  knew,  in  twenty  years'  experience,  an  instance 
of  one  of  these  volunteer  teachers  contracting  any 
contagious  disease  in  these  labors,  though  repeatedly 
they  have  entered  tenement  rooms  where  virulent 
typhoid  or  small-pox  cases  were  being  tended.  They 
made  it  a  rule  generally  to  bathe  and  change  their 
clothing  after  their  work. 

For  a  more  exact  account  of  the  results  of  the 
Fourth- Ward  labors,  it  is  difficult  to  obtain  precise 
statistics.  But  when  we  know  from  the  Prison  Re- 
ports that  soon  after  the  opening  of  this  school  there 
were  imprisoned  3,449  female  vagrants  of  all  ages,  and 
that  last  year  (1870),  when  the  little  girls  who  then  at- 
tended such  schools  would  have  matured,  there  were 
only  671;  or  when  we  observe  that  the  Prison  in 
that  neighborhood  inclosed  3,172  female  vagrants  in 
1861  and  only  339  in  1871,  we  may  be  assured  that 
the  sacrifices  made  in  that  Ward  have  not  been  with- 
out their  natural  fruit. 


INCIDENTS. 


143 


Extracts  from  our  Journal : 

A  VISIT  1ST  THE  FOURTH  "WAED 

"We  started  out  a  wintry  afternoon  to  see  some  of  our 
scholars  in  the  Industrial  School  of  the  Fourth  Ward.  A  num- 
ber of  ragged  little  girls,  disdaining  to  enter,  were  clustered 
about  the  door  of  the  School.  As  they  caught  a  glimpse  of 
some  one  coming  out,  the  cry  of  f  Lie  low !  lie  low  V  passed 
among  them,  and  they  were  off,  capering  about  in  the  snow-storm 
like  so  many  little  witches. 

"  We  passed  up  Oak  Street  and  Cherry.  Here  is  the  entrance, 
a  narrow  doorway  on  the  side.  Wind  through  this  dark  passage 
and  you  are  at  the  door  of  a  little  back  room ;  it  is  the  home 
of  a  German  rag-picker  who  has  a  child  in  the  school.  A  filthy, 
close  room,  with  a  dark  bedroom ;  there  is  one  window,  and  a 
small  stove,  and  two  or  three  chairs.  The  girl  is  neat  and 
healthy-looking.  'I  pick  rags,  sir/  says  the  mother,  'and  I 
can't  send  her  to  Public  School.  I  am  away  all  day,  and  she 
would  have  to  be  in  the  streets,  and  it's  very  hard  to  live  this 
winter.  It's  been  a  great  help  to  send  her  to  that  school/  I 
told  her  we  wanted  none  who  could  go  to  Public  School,  but  if 
it  was  so  with  her  she  might  continue  to  send.  A  miserable 
hole  for  a  home,  and  yet  the  child  looked  neatly. 

"  Here,  beyond,  is  an  old  house.  We  climb  the  shaking 
stairs,  up  to  the  attic — a  bare  front  room  with  one  roof-window. 
The  only  furniture  a  bed  and  stove  and  a  broken  chair.  Very 
chill  and  bare,  but  the  floor  is  well  swept.  A  little  hump- 
backed child  is  reading  away  very  busily  by  the  light  of  the 
scuttle  window,  and  another  is  cleaning  up  the  floor.  The 
mother  is  an  Irish  woman.  '  Shure !  an'  its  nivir  none  of  the 
schools  I  could  sind  'em  to.  I  had  no  clo'es  or  shoes  for  'em, 
and,  it's  the  truth,  I  am  jist  living,  an'  no  more.  Could  ye  help 
us  ? '  We  told  her  we  meant  to  help  her  by  helping  her  chil- 
dren, and  asked  about  the  little  deformed  one.  f  Och !  she  is 
sich  a  swate  won !  She  always  larned  very  quick  since  her 
accidint,  and  I  used  to  think,  maybe  she  wont  live,  and  God  will 
take  her  away — she  was  so  steady  and  good.  Tes,  I  am  thankful 
16  those  ladies  for  what  they  are  teaching  her.  She  never  had 
no  chance  before.    God  bless  ye,  gintlemen  !' 


144    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


"We  climbed  again  one  of  these  rookeries.  It  is  a  back 
garret.  A  dark-eyed,  passionate-looking  woman  is  sitting  over 
the  little  stove,  and  one  of .  our  little  scholars  is  standing  by — 
one  of  the  prettiest  and  brightest  children  in  the  school.  One 
of  those  faces  you  see  in  the  West  of  Ireland,  perhaps  with 
some  Spanish  blood  in  them  ;  a  little  oval  face,  with  soft  brown 
complexion,  quick,  dark  eyes  and  harsh,  black  hair.  The 
mother  looked  like  a  woman  who  had  seen  much  of  the  worst 
of  life.  '  No,  sir,  I  never  did  send  'em  to  school.  I  know  it, 
they  ought  to  learn,  but  I  couldn't.  I  try  to  shame  him  some- 
times— it's  my  husband,  sir — but  he  drinks,  and  then  bates  me. 
Look  at  that  bruise  ! '  and  she  pointed  to  her  cheek  ;  '  and  I  tell 
him  to  see  .what's  comin'  to  his  children.  There's  Peggy,  goes 
sellin'  fruit  every  night  to  those  cellars  in  Water  Street,  and 
they're  hells,  sir.  She's  learnin'  all  sorts  of  bad  words  there,  and 
don't  get  back  till  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock/  She  spoke  of  a 
sister  of  the  little  girl,  about  thirteen  years  old,  and  the  picture 
of  that  sweet,  dark-eyed  little  thing,  getting  her  education,  uncon- 
sciously, every  night  in  fhose  vile  cellars  of  dancing  prostitutes, 
came  up  to  my  mind.  I  asked  why  she  sent  her  there,  and 
spoke  of  the  dangers.  '  I  must,  sir ;  he  makes  nothing  for  me, 
and  if  it  wasn't  for  this  school,  and  the  help  there,  and  her 
earning  of  a  shilling  or  two  shilling  in  them  places,  I  should 
starve.  Oh,  I  wish  they  was  out  of  this  city  !  Yes,  it's  the 
truth,  I  would  rather  have  them  dead  than  on  the  street,  but  I 
can't  help  it.'  I  told  her  of  some  good  families  in  the  country, 
where  we  could  place  the  children.  '  Would  they  git  schoolin, 
sir?'  '  Certainly,  that  is  the  first  condition.  We  always  look 
especially  to  that.'  The  little  dark  eyes  sparkled,  and  she 
'should  like  to  take  care  of  a  baby  so  ! '  The  sister  now  came  in, 
and  we  talked  with  her.  '  Oh !  no,  she  didn't  like  to  go  to  those 
places;  but  they  only  buy  there  at  nights' — and  she  seemed 
equally  glad  to  get  a  place.  So  it  was  arranged  that  they  were 
to  come  up  to  the  office  next  day,  and  then  get  a  home  in  the 
country.  The  little  girl  now  wrapped  her  thin  shawl  about  her 
head,  and  ran  along  before  us,  through  the  storm,  to  some  of  the 
other  children.  The  harder  it  snowed,  the  more  the  little  eyes 
sparkled  and  the  prettier  she  looked.  •  . 

"  Another  home  of  poverty — dark,  damp,  and  chill.  The 


FRUIT-SELLERS. 


145 


mother  an  Englishwoman ;  her  child  had  gone  to  the  schooL 
barefooted.  This  girl  was  engaged  in  the  same  business — selling 
fruit  at  night  in  the  brothels.  '  I  know  it,  sir/  she  said  ;  '  she 
ought  to  have  as  good  a  chance  as  other  people's  children.  But 
I'm  so  poor !  I  haven't  paid  a  month's  rent,  and  I  was  sick  three 
weeks/ 

"  ■  Yes,  you're  right.  I  know  the  city,  sir ;  and  I  would  rather 
have  her  in  her  grave  than  brought  down  to  those  cellars.  But 
what  can  I  do,  sir  ? ' 

"  We  arrange,  again,  to  find  a  situation  in  the  country,  if  she 
wishes — and  engage  her,  at  least,  to  keep  the  child  at  school. 

"  Our  little  sprite  flies  along  again  through  the  snow,  and 
shows  us  another  home  of  one  of  our  scholars — a  prostitute's 
cellar.  The  elder  sister  of  the  child  is  there,  and  meets  us 
pleasantly,  though  with  a  shame-faced  look.  '  Yes,  she  shall  go 
to  school  every  day,  sir.  We  never  sent  her  before,  nowheres  ; 
but  she's  learnin'  very  fast  there  now/ 

"  We  tell  her  the  general  objects  of  the  school,  and  of  the 
good,  kind  home  which  can  be  found  for  her  sister  in  the  country. 
She  seems  glad  and  her  face,  which  must  have  been  pretty 
once,  lights  up,  perhaps,  at  the  thought  for  her  sister,  of  what 
she  shall  never  more  have — a  pure  home.  Two  or  three  sailors, 
sitting  at  their  bottles,  say, '  Yes,  that's  it !  git  the  little  gal  out 
of  this  1  it  ain't  no  place  for  her/ 

"  They  are  all  respectful,  and  seem  to  understand  what  we 
are  doing. 

"  The  little  guide  has  gone  back,  and  we  go  now  to  another 
address — a  back  cellar  in  Oak  Street — damp,  dark,  so  that  one  at 
mid-day  could  hardly  see  to  read  ;  filthy,  chilly,  yet  with  six  or 
eight  people  living  there.  Every  one  has  a  cold  ;  and  the  oldest 
daughter,  a  nice  girl  of  fourteen,  is  losing  her  eyes  in  the  foul 
atmosphere.  The  old  story :  '  No  work,  no  friends,  rent  to  pay, 
and  nothing  to  do/  The  parents  squalid,  idle,  intemperate, 
and  shiftless.  There  they  live,  just  picking  up  enough  to  keep 
life  warm  in  them ;  groaning,  and  begging,  and  seeking  work. 
There  they  live,  breeding  each  day  pestilence  and  disease,  scat- 
tering abroad  over  the  city  seeds  of  fearful  sickness — raising  a 
brood  of  vagrants  and  harlots — retorting  on  society  its  neglect 
7  '    >'"' v.,"  >  ■• 


146   THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OP  NEW  YORK. 


-by  cursing  the  bodies  and  souls  of  thousands  whom  they  never 
knew,  and  who  never  saw  them. 

"  Yet  it  is  cheering — it  cheered  me  even  in  that  squalid  hole 
— that  the  children  are  so  much  superior  to  their  parents.  It 
needs  time  for  vice  and  beggary  and  filth  to  degrade  childhood. 
God  has  given  every  fresh  human  soul  something  which  rises 
above  its  surroundings,  and  which  even  want  and  vice  do  not 
wear  away.  For  the  old  poor,  for  the  sensual  who  have  steeped 
themselves  in  crime,  for  the  drunkard,  the  thief,  the  prostitute 
who  have  run  a  long  course,  let  those  heroically  work  who  will. 
Yet,  noble  as  is  the  effort,  one's  experience  of  human  nature  is 
obliged  to  confess,  the  fruits  will  be  very  few.  The  old  heart 
of  man  is  a  hard  thing  to  change.  In  any  comprehensive  view, 
the  only  hopeful  reform  through  society  must  begin  with  child- 
hood, basing  itself  on  a  change  of  circumstances  and  on  religious 
influences." 

The  average  expense  of  a  school  of  this  nature, 
with,  one  hundred  scholars  and  two  salaried  teachers, 
where  a  cheap  meal  is  supplied,  and  garments  and 
shoes  are  earned  by  the  scholars,  we  reckon  usually  at 
$1,500,  or  at  $15  per  head  annually  for  each  scholar, 

s 


CHAPTBE  XIII. 


THE   GERMAN  RAG-PICKERS. 

Our  next  great  effort  was  among  the  Germans. 
On  the  eastern  side  of  the  city  is  a  vast  population 
of  German  laborers,  mechanics,  and  shop-keepers. 
Among  them,  also,  are  numbers  of  exceedingly  poor 
people,  who  live  by  gathering  rags  and  bones. 

I  used  at  that  time  to  explore  these  singular  settle- 
ments, Med  with  the  poor  peasantry  of  the  "Father- 
land," and  being  familiar  with  the  German  patois,  I 
had  many  cheery  conversations  with  these  honest 
people,  who  had  drifted  into  places  so  different  from 
their  mountain-homes.  In  fact,  it  used  to  convey  to 
me  a  strange  contrast,  the  dirty  yards  piled  with 
bones  and  flaunting  with  rags,'  and  the  air  smell- 
ing of  carrion;  while  the  accents  reminded  of  the 
glaciers  of  the  Bavarian  Alps  or  the  fresh  breezes  and 
wild  scenes  of  the  Harz.  The  poor  people  felt  the 
contrast  terribly,  and  their  children  most  of  all. 

From  ignorance  of  the  language  and  the  necessity 
of  working  at  their  street-trades,  they  did  not  attend 
our  schools,  and  seldom  entered  a  church.  They  were 
growing  up  without  either  religion  or  education.  Yet 


148    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

they  were  a  much  more  honest  and  hopeful  class  than 
the  Irish.  There  seemed  always  remaining  in  them 
something  of  the  good  old  German  Biederkeit,  or  solid- 
ity. One  could  depend  on  the  children  if  they 
were  put  in  places  of  trust,  and  in  school  they  seemed 
to  grasp  knowledge  with  much  more  tenacity  and 
vigor.  The  young  girls,  however,  coming  from  a  simi- 
lar low  class  were  weaker  in  virtue  than  the  Irish. 

The  number  of  the  Germans  in  the  poor  quarters 
may  be  somewhat  measured  by  the  population  of  the 
Wards  which  they  inhabited.  The  Eleventh  Ward  at 
that  time  (1854)  was  reckoned  to  contain  50,000  inhab- 
itants; at  present  (1870)  it  contains  64,372,  and  the 
Sixteenth  Ward,  another  strong  German  district,  has 
99,375. 

The  Association  of  ladies  which  we  called  together 
for  labors  among  this  population  happened  to  be  com- 
posed mainly  of  Unitarians,  a  religious  body  that  has 
always  felt  a  peculiar  interest  in  the  moral  condition 
of  our  German  poor.  The  moving  spirit  in  the  asso- 
ciation was  a  lady  of  such  singular  grace  and  delicacy 
of  character,  that  I  hardly  venture,  even  after  these 
many  years,  to  make  public  her  name.  She  occupied 
then  one  of  the  foremost  positions  in  2few  York  so- 
ciety— a  position  accorded  in  part  to  her  name,  hon- 
ored for  intellectual  services  to  the  Eepublic,  beyond 
almost  any  other  in  our  history,  but  above  all  due 
to  her  own  singular  sweetness  and  dignity  of  manner 


THE  GKERMAN  POOR. 


149 


and  a  very  highly  cultivated  and  strong  intellect. 
.  Her  power,  whether  with  rich  or  poor,  was  her  won- 
derful consideration  for  others,  and  her  quick  sym- 
pathy. The  highest  inspiration  of  Christian  faith 
breathed  through  her  life  and  animated  her  in 
laboring  with  these  children  of  poverty.  The  same 
inspiration  sustained  her  subsequently  in  a  prolonged 
and  terrible  trial  of  months  under  a  fearful  disease, 
and  made  her  death  a  sun-set  of  glory  to  all  who  knew 
her.  Never  did  the  faith  in  immortal  union  with  God 
through  Christ  attain  a  more  absolute  certainty  in 
any  human  being.  Her  death,  even  to  many  skeptics 
who  were  intimate  with  her,  became  a  new  and  aston- 
ishing argument  for  Immortality. 

She  numbered  among  her  friends  many  of  the 
leading  intellects  of  the  country,  as  well  as  those 
among  the  poor  who  depended  on  her  advice,  sympa- 
thy, and  aid. 

Into  this  labor  of  love  among  the  Germans,  Mrs. 
S.  threw  herself,  in  company  with  a  few:  friends,  with 
profound  earnestness. 

In  view  of  the  peculiar  temptations  of  the  young 
German  girls,  one  of  our  objects  in  this  school  was  to 
offer  a  social  as  well  as  educational  resort  in  the  even- 
ings. We  furnished  the  rooms  pleasantly  and  taste- 
fully, and  proposed  to  vary  our  school  exercises  by 
games  or  an  occasional  dance  and  frolic.  Mrs.  S.  and 
other  ladies  consented  to  be  often  present,  to  instruct 


150    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

and  talk  with,  the  girls.  Our  visitors  and  myself  at 
once  gathered  in  a  needy-looking  assembly  of  the 
poor  German  girls  of  the  Eleventh  Ward,  not  as  rag- 
ged or  wild  as  the  Irish  throng  in  the  Fourth  Ward., 
but  equally  poor  and  quite  as  much  exposed  to  temp- 
tation. The  School  went  on  day  by  day  in  its  minis- 
trations of  love  and  its  patient  industry,  and  gradually 
produced  the  same  effects  as  have  been  experienced 
under  all  these  Schools.  The  wild  became  tamer,  the 
wayward  more  docile.  The  child  of  the  rag-picker 
soon  began  to  like  in-door  industry  better  than  the 
vagrant  business  of  the  streets,  and  to  lose  something 
of  her  boldness  and  correct  her  slovenliness. 

After  laboring  thus  for  some  years  with  a  board 
of  ladies,  a  strong  effort  was  made  to  secure  the 
assistance  of  the  German  merchants  of  the  city. 

In  1859,  a  subscription  of  about  $1,000  was  ob- 
tained from  them,  and  the  School  was  enlarged  and 
made  still  more  attractive,  so  as  to  reach  the  young 
working  German  girls  in  the  evening.  At  this  time  a 
young  lady  of  high  culture,  from  one  of  the  prominent 
intellectual  families  of  New  England,  offered  herself8 
for  this  difficult  task,  and  she  was  placed  at  the  head 
of  the  School.  For  two  years  she  labored  unceasingly 
for  this  wild,  uncontrolled  class,  being  present  every 
evening  in  the  school,  and  bringing  all  her  education 
and  earnestness  of  character  to  bear  upon  them. 
They  never  forgot  her,  and  she  left  an  indelible  im- 


"dutch  hill." 


151 


pression  on  these  children,  and  aided  in  saving  tliem 
from  the  temptations  which  have  ruined  so  many  of 
their  companions. 

OurtGerman  patrons  gradually  left  us,  and  it  was 
only  in  1870  that  their  assistance  was  secured  again 
for  a  charity  which  was  saving  so  many  thousand 
children  of  their  countrymen. 

The  School  is  now  held  at  No.  272  Second  Street, 
and  contains  some  four  hundred  children. 

"DUTCH  HILL "  AOT>  THE  SWTLL-GrATHEEEES. 

On  the  eastern  side  of  the  city,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Fortieth  Street,  is  a  village  of  squatters, 
which  enjoys  the  title  of  u  Dutch  Hill."  The  inhabit- 
ants are  not,  however,  "  Dutch,"  but  mainly  poor 
Irish,  who  have  taken  temporary  possession  of  unused 
sites  on  a  hill,  and  have  erected  shanties  which  serve 
at  once  for  pig-pens,  hen-coops,  bed-rooms,  and  living- 
rooms.  They  enjoy  the  privilege  of  squatters  in 
having  no  rent  to  pay ;  but  they  are  exposed  to  the 
penalty  of  being  at  any  moment  turned  out  from  their 
dens,  and  losing  land  and  house  at  once.  Usually 
they  remain  while  the  quarrymen  who  are  opening 
streets  almost  undermine  their  shanties,  and  then  if 
the  buildings  are  not  blown  away,  they  pull  them 
down  and  pack  them  away  like  tents  to  another  dwell- 
ing-place. 

The  village  is  filled  with  snarling  dogs,  which  aid 


152    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

in  drawing  the  swill  or  coal  carts,  for  tlie  children  are 
mainly  employed  in  collecting  swill  and  picking  coals 
through  the  streets. 

The  shanty  family  are  never  quite  so  poor  as  the 
tenement-house  family,  as  they  have  no  rent  to  pay. 
But  the  filth  and  wretchedness  in  which  they  some- 
times live  are  beyond  description. 

It  happened  that  for  many  years  (not  wishing  to 
scatter  my  efforts  too  much),  I  made  this  quarter  my 
special  u parish v  for  visitations;  and  very  discourag- 
ing visits  they  were,  many  of  them.  The  people  had 
very  little  regular  occupation,  many  being  widows 
who  did  occasional  u chores7'  in  families;  others  lived 
on  the  sale  of  the  coal  their  children  gathered,  or  on  the 
pigs  which  shared  their  domicile ;  others  kept  fowls, 
and  all  had  vast  flocks  of  goats,  though  where  the 
profits  from  these  latter  came  I  could  never  discover, 
as  no  one  seemed  to  buy  the  milk,  and  I  never  heard 
of  their  killing  them.  Money,  however,  in  some  way 
they  did  procure,  and  one  old  red-faced  swill-gatherer 
I  knew  well,  whose  bright  child  we  tried  so  long  to 
save,  who  died  finally,  it  was  said,  with  a  large  deposit 
in  the  Savings-Bank,  which  no  one  could  claim ;  yet 
one  corner  of  her  bed-chamber  was  filled  with  a  heap 
of  smelling  bones,  and  the  pigs  slept  under  her  bed. 

Another  old  rag-picker  I  remember  whose  shanty 
was  a  sight  to  behold;  all  the  odds  and  ends  of  a  great 
city  seemed  piled  up  in  it, — bones,  broken  dishes,  rags, 


A  RAG-PICKER'S  home. 


153 


bits  of  furniture,  cinders,  old  tin,  useless  lamps, 
decaying  vegetables,  ribbons,  cloths,  legless  chairs, 
and  carrion,  all  mixed  together,  and  heaped  up  nearly 
to  the  ceiling,  leaving  hardly  room  for  a  bed  on  the 
floor  where  the  woman  and  her  two  children  slept. 
Yet  all  these  were  marvels  of  health  and  vigor,  far 
surpassing  most  children  I  know  in  the  comfortable 
classes.  The  woman  was  German,  and  after  years  of 
effort  could  never  be  induced  to  do  anything  for  the 
education  of  her  children,  until  finally  I  put  the  police 
on  their  track  as  vagrants,  and  they  were  safely 
housed  in  the  u  Juvenile  Asylum." 

Many  a  time  have  I  come  into  their  shanties  on  a 
snowy  morning  and  found  the  people  asleep  with  the 
snow  lying  thick  on  their  bed-clothes.  One  poor 
creature  was  found  thus  one  morning  by  the  police, 
frozen  stiff.  They  all  suffered,  as  might  be  expected, 
terribly  from  rheumatism.  Liquor,  of  course,  "pre- 
vailed." Every  woman  drank  hard,  I  suppose  to 
forget  her  misery ;  and  dreadful  quarrels  raged  among 
them. 

The  few  men  there  worked  hard  at  stone-quar- 
rying, but  were  often  disabled  by  disease  and 
useless  from  drunkenness.  Many  of  the  women  had 
been  abandoned  by  their  husbands,  as  their  families 
increased  and  became  burdensome,  or  as  they  them- 
selves grew  plain  and  bad-tempered.  Some  of  these 
poor  creatures  drank  still  more  to  heal  their  wounded 


154    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

affections.  The  children,  of  course,  were  rapidly  fol- 
lowing the  ways  of  their  parents.  The  life  of  a  swill- 
gatherer,  or  coal-picker,  or  chiffonnier  in  the  streets 
soon  wears  off  a  girl's  modesty  and  prepares  her  for 
worse  occupation. 

Into  this  community  of  poor,  ignorant,  and  drunken 
people  I  threw  myself,  and  resolved,  with  God's  aid, 
to  try  to  do  something  for  them.  Here  for  years  I 
visited  from  cabin  to  cabin,  or  hunted  out  every  cellar 
and  attic  of  the  neighboring  tenement-houses  ;  stand- 
ing at  death-beds  and  sick-beds,  seeking  to  administer 
consolation  and  advice,  and,  aided  by  others,  to  render 
every  species  of  assistance. 

In  returning  home  from  these  rounds,  amidst  filth 
and  poverty,  I  remember  that  1  was  frequently  so 
depressed  and  exhausted  as  to  throw  myself  flat  upon 
the  rug  in  front  of  the  fire,  scarcely  able  to  move. 
The  discouraging  feature  in  such  visits  as  I  was 
making,  and  which  must  always  exist  in  similar  efforts, 
is  that  one  has  no  point  of  religious  contact  with  these 
people. 

Among  all  the  hundreds  of  families  I  knew  and 
visited  I  never  met  but  two  that  were  Protestants. 
To  all  words  of  spiritual  warning  or  help  there  came 
the  chilling  formalism  of  the  ignorant  Eoman  Catholic 
in  reply,  implying  that  certain  outward  acts  made  the 
soul  right  with  its  Creator.  The  very  inner  ideas  of 
our  spiritual  life  of  free  love  towards  God,  true  repent- 


INFLUENCE  OF  PRIESTS.  155 

ance  and  trust  in  a  Divine  Bedeemer,  seemed  wanting 
in  their  minds.  I  never  had  the  least  ambition  to  be 
a  proselytizer,  and  never  tried  to  convert  them,  and  I 
certainly  had  no  prejudice  against  the  Eomanists ;  on 
the  contrary ,  it  has  been  my  fortune  in  Europe  to  enjoy 
the  intercourse  of  some  most  spiritual-minded  Catho- 
lics. But  these  poor  people  seemed  stamped  with  the 
spiritual  lifelessness  of  Bomanism.  At  how  many  a 
lonely  death-bed  or  sick-bed,  where  even  the  priest 
had  forgotten  to  come,  have  I  longed  and  tried  to  say 
some  comforting  word  of  religion  to  the  dull  ear, 
closing  to  all  earthly  sounds ;  but  even  if  heard  and 
the  sympathy  gratefully  felt,  it  made  scarcely  more 
religious  impression  than  would  the  chants  of  the 
Buddhists  have  done.  One  sprinkle  of  holy  water 
were  worth  a  volume  of  such  words. 

A  Protestant  has  great  difficulty  in  coming  into 
connection  with  the  Bomanist  poor.  I  was  often 
curious  to  know  the  exact  influence  of  the  priests 
over  these  people.  The  lowest  poor  in  New  York  are 
not,  I  think,  much  cared  for  by  the  Bomanist  priest- 
hood. One  reason,  without  doubt,  is  that  their  atten- 
tion has  thus  far  been  mainly  (and  wisely)  directed  to 
building  handsome  churches,  and  that  they  have  not 
means  to  do  much  for  these  persons.  Another  and 
more  powerful  reason  is,  probably,  that  the  old  "  en- 
thusiasm of  humanity"  which  animated  a  Guy,  a 
Vincent  de  Paul,  or  Xavier,  has  died  out  among  them. 


156    THE  DAN GrE H O ITS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

I  have  known,  however,  individual  cases  in  our 
city,  where  a  priest  has  exercised  a  marked  influence 
in  keeping  his  charge  from  intoxication.  There  were 
also  occasionally,  in  this  very  region,  something  like 
"Bevivals  of  Beligion"  among  the  people,  stimulated 
by  the  priests,  in  which  many  young  girls  joined 
religious  societies,  and  did  lead,  to  my  knowledge,  for 
a  time  more  pure  and  devout  lives. 

When  one  thinks  what  a  noble-minded  and  hu- 
mane Priest  might  accomplish  among  the  lowest 
classes  of  New  York,  how  many  vices  he  could  check, 
and  what  virtues  he  might  cherish,  and  what  public 
blessings  on  the  whole  community  he  might  confer, 
by  elevating  this  degraded  population  5  and  then  as 
one  looks  at  the  moral  condition  of  the  Eoman  Cath- 
olic poor,  one  can  only  sigh,  that  that  once  powerful 
body  has  lost  so  much  of  the  inspiration  of  Christ 
which  once  filled  it. 

The  plan  which  I  laid  out  in  working  in  this  quar- 
ter was  in  harmony  with  all  our  previous  efforts ;  it 
was  especially  to  influence  and  improve  the  children. 

It  so  happened  that  near  u  Dutch  Hill 79  was  an- 
other hill  covered  with  handsome  houses  and  inhabited 
by  wealthy  people,  "  Murray  Hill."  The  ladies  in 
this  prosperous  quarter  were  visited,  and  finally 
assembled  in  a  public  meeting;  and,  with  the  same 
preliminaries  as  in  the  other  Schools,  we  at  length 
organized  in  1854. 


A  SISTER  OF  CHARITY. 


157 


THE  EAST  RIVER  INDUSTRIAL  SCHOOL. 

Early  in  the  history  of  this  School,  we  secured  the 
services  of  a  lady.  Miss  Spratt,  now  Mrs.  Hurley,  who 
has  been  ever  since  the  main-stay  of  that  most  useful 
charity. 

For  seventeen  years  this  woman  of  refinement  and 
education  has  spent  her  days  in  this  School  of  poor 
children,  and  her  hours  of  leisure  in  those  wretched 
shanties — an  angel  of  mercy  and  sympathy  to  every 
unfortunate  family  for  miles  around.  Whatever 
woman  falls  into  misfortune,  loses  husband  or  child, 
is  driven  from  home  by  poverty,  or  forced  from  work 
by  depression  of  business,  or  meets  with  troubles  of 
mind  or  body,  at  once  comes  to  her  for  sympathy  and 
relief.  She  has  become  so  used  to  scenes  of  misery, 
that  to  her,  she  says,  uthe  house  of  mourning"  is 
more  natural  than  "  the  house  of  feasting." 

The  present  writer,  for  his  own  part,  confesses  that 
he  could  not  possibly  havfe  borne  the  harrowing  and 
disagreeable  scenes  with  which  he  has  been  so  long 
familiar,  without  making  a  strict  rule  never  to  think 
or  speak  of  the  poor  when  he  was  away  from  his 
work,  and  immediately  absorbing  himself  in  some 
entirely  different  subject.  The  spring  of  the  mind 
would  have  been  broken. 

But  Mrs.  Hurley  lived  in  and  for  the  poor;  her  only 
relaxation  was  hearing  Mr.  Beecher  on  Sunday  5  and 
yet,  when  she  occasionally  visited  us  in  the  country, 


158    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

she  devoured  books — lier  great  favorite  being  a  trans- 
lation I  bad  of  Plato. 

The  children ,  of  course,  became  passionately  at- 
tached to  this  missionary  of  charity.  During  her 
labors,  she  was  married  to  a  physician.  Dr.  Hurley,  who 
subsequently  was  killed  in  the  army  during  the  War 
of  the  Rebellion.  While  she  was  temporarily  absent, 
and  a  strange  teacher  employed,  six  of  the  wildest 
girls  were  expelled,  so  unmanageable  were  they. 
When  she  came  back,  they  returned  and  welcomed 
her  eagerly,  behaving  perfectly  well ;  and  it  was  dis- 
covered that  so  attached  were  they  to  her,  they  had 
each  carried  fragments  of  her  dress  as  mementos  in 
their  bosom ! 

The  peculiar  value  of  our  common  experience  in 
this  School  was,  that  we  were  enabled  through  so 
many  years  to  follow  carefully  the  results  of  the 
School  on  a  large  class  of  very  destitute  little  girls. 
We  know  personally  what  was  here  accomplished.  A 
very  hopeful  feature  appeared  soon  in  the  work.  The 
children  rose  above  the  condition  of  their  parents ; 
sometimes  they  improved,  by  their  own  increasing 
neatness  and  good  behavior,  the  habits  and  appear- 
ance of  their  fathers  and  mothers:  More  often  they 
became  ashamed  of  their  paternal  piggeries  and  nasty 
dens,  and  were  glad  to  get  away  to  more  decent 
homes  or  new  occupations.  One  great  means  of  in- 
fluence here  was,  as  in  the  other  Schools,  through  the 


THE  FRUITS. 


159 


regular  assistance  of  volunteer  teachers,  the  ladies  of 
the  Association. 

It  happened  that  there  was  among  them  more  of 
a  certain  tenacity  of  character,  of  the  old  Puritan 
faithfulness,  than  was  manifested  by  some  of  our  co- 
laborers;  having  put  their  hands  to  the  plow,  they 
never  thought  of  turning  back.  They  gave  time  and 
labor,  and  money  freely,  and  they  continued  at  their 
posts  year  after  year. 

The  children  felt  their  refining  and  elevating  in- 
fluence. We  soon  found  that  the  daughters  of  the 
drunkards  did  not  follow  their  mothers'  footsteps, 
simply  because  they  had  acquired  higher  tastes.  We 
hardly  ever  knew  of  one  who  indulged  in  drinking; 
indeed,  one  old  red-faced  tippler,  Mrs.  McK.,  who  was 
the  best  chore- woman  on  the  Hill  when  sober,  event- 
ually was  entirely  reformed  by  her  children.  ~No  child 
seemed  to  fall  back  into  the  degradation  of  the 
parents.  And  recalling  now  the  rank  foul  soil  from 
which  so  many  sweet  flowers  seemed  to  spring,  one 
can  only  wonder  and  be  grateful  that  efforts  so  imper- 
fect bore  such  harvest. 

I  remember  the  F.  family — such  a  cheery,  healthy- 
looking  family  living  in  a  damp,  dark  basement,  and 
almost  always  half-starved,  wretchedly  poor,  but  very 
industrious !  The  youngest  daughter  passed  through 
our  School,  and  is  now  becoming  a  teacher ;  another 
married  a  mechanic  (these  girls  never  marry  day- 


160    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


laborers).  Still  another  proved  herself  a  heroine. 
We  sent  her  as  nursery-maid  to  a  family,  and  as  they 
were  all  sailing  down  the  Hudson  in  the  St  John, 
the  boiler  burst;  amid  the  horrible  confusion  and 
panic  where  so  many  perished,  this  girl  had  the  cour- 
age to  rush  through  the  steam  and  boiling  water,  and 
save  the  three  children  entrusted  to  her  charge.  Of 
course,  after  this,  she  was  no  longer  a  servant,  but  a 
u  sister  beloved  "  in  the  family.  A  gentleman  of  for- 
tune, attracted  by  her  appearance  and  intelligence, 
ultimately  married  her.  He  died,  and  she  was  left 
with  a  nice  fortune.  She  bore  her  change  of  fortune 
beautifully. 

The  following  is  another  similar  incident  from  our 
Journal : 

A  ROMANTIC  INCIDENT  IN  AN  INDUSTRIAL  SCHOOL. 

"  A  few  years  ago  I  remember  an  old  shanty  on  '  Dutch  Hill/ 
where  a  wretched-looking  man  lived  with  his  pigs  and  goats, 

called  K  .    He  was  considered  a  bad  man  even  among  his  bad 

neighbors,  and  the  story  of  him  was  (I  do  not  know  how  true), 
that  he  had  committed  murder,  and  had  escaped  the  law  by  some 
legal  quibble.  He  was  a  swill-gatherer,  and  had  two  little  bright 
daughters  to  assist  him  at  home.  These  came  to  our  Fortieth- 
street  School.  They  improved  very  fast,  and  one  used  to  attract 
much  attention  from  the  ladies  by  her  pretty  face  and  intelligent 
answers.  Nellie  finally  left  the  school,  and  was  sent  by  us  to  the 
West.  She  improved  much  there,  and,  after  some  time  spent  in 
different  families,  came  back  to  the  city,  where  she  became  an 
'operator'  on  the  sewing-machine.  While  at  this  business  and 
living  in  a  respectable  boarding-house,  she  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  a  gentleman  of  some  means  and  position,  much  older 
than  herself,  who,  at  length,  offered  himself  to  her  in  marriage. 


CHANGES  OF  FORTUNE. 


161 


She  declined,  on  the  ground  that  she  was  so  much  inferior  in 
position  to  him,  and  that  his  family  would  object.  He  insisted, 
and  declared  that  '  he  wished  to  please  himself,  not  his  family/ 
and  they  were  married. 

"  He  took  his  wife  away  to  a  foreign  country,  where  his  busi- 
ness lay,  and  there  she  has  been  a  number  of  years,  gradually 
improving  in  manners,  taste,  and  education,  living  like  a  lady 
of  fortune,  with  her  maid  and  carriage,  and  making  herself,  in 
every  way,  a  most  suitable  wife  for  one  who  had  been  so  much 
above  her.  We  had  often  heard  of  her  good  fortune.  But  dur- 
ing our  Christmas  Festival  at  the  East  River  School,  she  herself 
came  in  to  see  it  again  and  thank  those  who  had  been  so  kind 
to  her.  We  all  knew  her  at  once  ;  and  yet  she  was  so  changed — 
a  pretty,  tasteful-looking  young  lady,  with  a  graceful  manner 
and  a  Spanish  accent  now — all  the  old  stamp  of  '  Dutch  Hill ' 
quite  gone,  even  the  brogue  lost  and  replaced  by  foreign  intona- 
tions. She  was  perfectly  simple  and  unaffected,  and  thanked  us 
all  for  our  former  kindness  with  the  utmost  heartiness ;  and 
told  her  story  very  simply,  and  how  anxious  she  still  was  to 
improve  her  education,  seemingly  not  ashamed  of  her  poor  ori- 
gin. It  is  a  pleasant  circumstance  that  she  has  taken  out  her 
beloved  teacher,  Mrs.  Hurley,  a  number  of  times  to  drive  in  her 
carriage/ ' 

Several  changes  of  fortune  of  this  kind  have  made 
it  quite  a  natural  question,  when  I  visit  Mrs.  Hurley's 
School,  "  What  about  the  heiresses  V1 

Another  girl,  I  remember in  one  of  the6e  shanties, 
who  came  to  school  in  an  old  petticoat,  and  barefooted, 
a  most  destitute-looking  child.  She  was  subsequently 
employed  in  our  own  family.  I  doubt  whether  many 
girls  of  the  highest  classes  show  a  greater  natural 
refinement  5  and  she  was  as  clever  in  every  part  of 
household  work  as  she  was  nice.  She  finally  married 
a  hotel-keeper  in  San  Francisco,  and  is  doing  well. 


162    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OE  NEW  YORK. 

Generally,  tlie  girls  married  mechanics  and  people 
above  their  rank  of  life.  Some  became  Protestants ; 
those  who  married  Catholics  were  never  bigoted.  A 
number  went  to  the  West,  and  have  done  well  there. 

Mrs.  Hurley  reckons  over  at  least  two  thousand 
different  girls  who  have  been  in  this  school  and  under 
its  influence,  since  she  has  been  there  during  the  past 
eighteen  years.  The  condition  of  all  these  we  know 
probably  pretty  well.  We  count  but  Jive  who  have 
become  drunkards,  prostitutes,  or  criminals  !  Such  a 
wonderful  result  can  be  shown  by  hardly  any  pre- 
ventive efforts  in  the  world.  Yet,  there  were  certain 
cases  which  we  used  to  call 

> 

'OUR  FAILUBES." 

There  was  the  D.  family — they  lived  on  the  lucra- 
tive spoils  of  their  infant,  who  sold  toilet-covers  to 
compassionate  ladies.  This  little  Julia  was  an  imp 
of  deceit  and  mischief.  She  had,  fortunately  for  her, 
a  worn,  sad  face,  and  a  capacity  and  imagination  for 
lying  unequaled  at  her  years.  With  inarticulate 
sobs,  and  the  tears  coursing  down  her  thin  cheeks, 
she  told  of  her  dying  mother  and  her  labors  to  get  her 
bread ;  or,  again,  she  was  an  orphan  supporting  her- 
self and  her  deformed  little  brother  5  or  her  disabled 
father  depended  on  her  feeble  efforts  for  his  slender 
support.    The  addresses  she  gave  of  her  house  were 


A  LITTLE  BEGrGrAR. 


163 


always  wrong ;  and  so,  year  by  year,  she  gathered  in 
a  plenteous  harvest  from  the  pity  of  the  ladies. 

At  home,  a  little  band  of  able-bodied,  slatternly 
sisters  were  living  mainly  on  the  money  thus  begged- 
They  naturally  became  each  day  more  lazy  and  disso- 
lute ;  and  little  Julia  more  bold  and  brazen-faced.  We 
tried  to  bribe  the  young  beggar  to  go  to  school,  we  paid 
her  rent,  we  offered  the  sisters  work,  we  remonstrated 
and  threatened,  we  even  set  the  police  on  her  track, 
but  nothing  could  check  or  turn  her ;  she  eluded  the 
police  as  easily  as  she  did  the  ladies.  If  she  came  to 
school,  she  stayed  but  a  day ;  all  effort  failed  against 
the  ingrained  slovenliness  and  vagrancy  of  the  family ; 
day  by  day  they  sank ;  one  daughter  was  seduced, 
and  to  their  number  was  now  added  an  illegitimate 
child.  They  grew  dirtier  and  more  miserable;  and 
here,  years  ago,  we  left  them.  No  doubt,  Julia  is  still 
pursuing  her  profitable  vocation  from  house  to  house, 
and  the  girls  are  in  yet  lower  depths. 

A  STREET-CHILD.    (EROM  OUR  JOURNAL.) 

"  Some  ten  years  ago,  I  made  many  efforts  to  save  a  little 
homeless  girl,  who  was  floating  about  the  quarter  near  East 
Thirty-second  Street.  Her  drunken  mother  had  thrown  her 
out  of  doors,  and  she  used  to  sleep  under  stairways  or  in 
deserted  cellars,  "and  was  a  most  wretched,  half-starved  little 
creature.  I  talked  with  her  often,  but  could  not  induce  her  to 
go  to  school,  or  to  seek  a  home  in  the  country.  She  grew  up 
steadily  vagrant.  At  length  we  succeeded  in  getting  her  away 
to  the  family  of  an  excellent  lady  in  Buffalo.    There  she  speed- 


164    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


ily  gave  up  her  roving  habits,  became  neat  and  orderly  under 
the  influence  of  the  lady,  attended  church  and  Sabbath  School, 
and  altogether  seemed  quite  a  changed  child.  Unfortunately, 
the  lady  was  obliged  to  move  to  this  city,  and  instead  of  placing 
the  little  girl  in  another  family  in  the  country,  she  brought  her 
with  her  to  New  York,  and,  no  longer  having  room  for  her  in 
her  house,  let  her  go  to  her  old  associates.  Jn  a  few  weeks,  the 
nice,  tidy  little  girl  began  to  look  like  the  idle  and  vagrant 
young  girls  who  were  her  companions.  She  became  slatternly 
in  her  habits,  and  instead  of  seeking  a  place  in  some  family, 
she  joined  a  company  of  poor  working-girls,  who  earned  their 
living  by  manufacturing  children's  torpedoes.  She  lodged  in 
the  crowded  tenement-houses,  and  gradually  fell  into  all  their 
low  associations.  The  next  I  knew  of  her,  I  heard  that  she  had 
been  seduced  under  a  promise  of  marriage,  and  that  she  was 
about  to  be  a  mother.  Again  I  knew  of  her,  with  her  unfor- 
tunate little  babe,  driven  about  from  one  low  lodging-house  to 
another,  dependent  upon  charity  for  support.  Finally,  the 
child  was  adopted  by  the  parents  of  her  seducer,  and  she  was 
left  free  again.  Though  in  extreme  destitution,  she  would  not 
take  a  situation  away  from  the  city.  She  resumed  her  work  at 
torpedoes,  and  lived  about  in  the  tenement-houses,  a  poor,  be- 
draggled-looking creature.  Again,  after  some  time,  I  heard  of 
her  as  having  married  a  low  fellow  in  that  district.  She  had 
only  been  married  a  few  days  when  her  husband  abandoned  her, 
and  never  returned  to  her.  She  now  hangs  about  the  low 
lodging-houses  between  First  and  Second  Avenues,  in  East 
Thirty-first  and  Thirty-second  Streets,  a  forlorn-looking,  slovenly 
woman,  who  will  almost  certainly  end  in  the  lowest  vice  and 
penury." 

Thus  far  in  the  Journal.  Our  constant  pursuit  of 
this  girl  did  tend,  I  think,  to  keep  her  from  utter  ruin. 

She  fell  no  lower ;  and  subsequently  connected  her- 
self with  one  of  the  charitable  institutions,  where  she 
is  living  a  virtuous  life. 


CHAPTBE  XIV. 


SCENES  AMONG  THE  POOR. 
EFFECTS  OF  DRTTNTIENNE  SS.  (FROM  OUR  JOURNAL.) 

"  It  sometimes  seems  in  our  Industrial  Schools  as  if  each 
wretched,  blear-eyed,  half-starved,  filthy  little  girl  was  a  living 
monument  of  the  curses  of  Intemperance.  The  rags,  the  disease, 
the  ignorance,  the  sunny  looks  darkened,  the  old  faces  on  young 
shoulders,  are  not  necessarily  the  pitiable  effects  of  overwhelm- 
ing circumstances.  The  young  creatures  are  not  always  cursed 
by  poverty  principally,  but  by  the  ungoverued  appetites,  bad 
habits  and  vices  of  their  parents.  On  '  Dutch  Hill '  one  can 
hardly  enter  a  shanty  where  is  a  sober  family.  The  women  all 
drink  ;  the  men  work,  and  then  carouse.  The  hard  earnings  go 
off  in  alcohol.  No  savings  are  laid  up  for  the  winter.  The 
children  are  ragged  and  unprotected,  and,  but  for  the  Industrial 
School,  uneducated.  It  is  sometimes  the  saddest  sight  to  see  a 
neat  little  shanty  grow  day  by  day  more  filthy ;  the  furniture 
sold,  the  windows  broken,  the  children  looking  more  thin  and 
hungry,  the  parents  falling  out  of  honest  work — all  the  slow 
effects  of  ungoverned  passion  for  liquor. 

"  I  entered,  yesterday,  a  little  hut  on  the  '  Hill/  where  a  middle- 
aged  woman  lived,  whom  I  knew.  She  was  sitting  near  the  door, 
weeping  violently.  I  asked  her  the  reason,  and,  after  a  little 
time,  she  told  me.  Her  eldest  daughter,  a  girl  of  twenty,  had 
just  been  in  drunk,  and  had  struck  her  over  the  eye ;  and  when 
her  mother  was  looking  at  her  bruise  in  the  glass,  she  had  dashed 
her  fist  through  the  glass. 

"  There  was  no  safety  there,  the  mother  said,  when  she  came 
in.  If  they  were  away  she  would  burst  open  the  doors  and  break 
the  furniture,  and  cut  her  sewing-work  to  pieces.  '  She  is  a 
devil,  sir,  when  she's  in  liquor ! '   Three  times  the  mother  had  had 


166    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


her  arrested  and  sent  to  Blackwell's  Island ;  '  but  somehow,  sir, 
she's  always  worse  when  she  comes  out,  and  I  niver  heard  her 
use  bad  words  till  she'd  been  there. 

"  '  Now,  God  knows  where  she  lives — they  say  it's  in  a  bad 
house ;  and  it's  I  who  am  afraid  she's  gittin'  Tommy,  her  broder, 
into  the  same  way,  for  he  doesn't  come  home  now.  O  God  !  I 
might  as  well  he  in  hell ! '  Nothing  can  convey  the  tone  of  despair 
with  which  that  was  said.  She  told  me  how  the  girl  had  been 
such  a  bright  little  one.  '  She  was  so  pretty,  sir ;  and  maybe 
we  nattered  her,  and  made  too  much  of  her.  And  her  father, 
he  thought  she  ought  to  learn  the  dressmakin'  trade,  but  she 
felt  somehow  above  it,  and  she  went  to  be  a  book-folder  down- 
town. And  one  day  we  missed  her  till  late  o'  night ;  and  thin 
the  next  night  it  was  later,  and  at  last  her  father — bless  his  poor 
soul ! — he  said  she  shouldn't  be  out  so,  and  whipt  her.  And  thin 
she  niver  came  back  for  three  nights,  and  we  thought,  maybe, 
she's  at  her  work,  and  has  to  stay  late ;  and  we  niver  suspected 
how  it  was,  when,  suddenly,  Mrs.  Moore  came  and  said  as  how 
Maggy  said  she  was  at  Mrs.  Rooney's — the  ould  divil — and  my 
husband  wouldn't  belave  it  at  all ;  but  I  wint  and  bust  open  the 
door  wid  a  stone,  and  found  her — my  own  child— there  wid  a  lot 
of  men  and  women ;  and  I  swore  at  'em,  and  the  M.  P.'s  they 
come  and  cleared  'em  all  out,  and  there  was  the  last  of  her. 
She's  niver  been  an  honest  woman  since,  when  she's  in  liquor- 
It  broke  her  father's  heart.  He  died  the  next  Saturday  ;  people 
said  it  was  some  sort  of  dysentry,  but  I  know  it  was  this.  God 
help  me  !  And,  now,  sir  (almost  fiercely),  can't  you  get  me  out 
of  this  ?  All  I  want  is,  to  sell  my  shanty,  and  wid  my  two  little 
ones,  git  away  from  her.    I  don't  care  how  far ! ' 

"  The  mother  fleeing  her  daughter.  The  pretty  child  becomes 
a  drunken  outcast !    So  ends  many  a  sad  history  in  our  city." 

THE  DYING  SEWING-WOMAN. 

"  In  East  Thirty-fourth  Street,  in  a  tenement-house,  a  poor 
sewing-woman  has  lived  for  the  last  two  years.  She  had  for- 
merly been  in  very  good  circumstances,  and  her  husband,  a  res- 
pectable mechanic,  earned  a  support  for  her  and  her  children, 
until  at  length  he  fell  into  intemperate  drinking.    With  the 


THE  DYING-  WOMAN.  167 

appetite  for  liquor  on  him,  everything  that  he  made  was  spent, 
and  he  himself  was  gradually  becoming  worse  and  worse.  The 
poor  wife  was  forced  to  the  hardest  work  to  keep  her  children 
and  herself  alive.  Last  winter,  in  a  moment  of  desperation,  the 
husband  put  his  name  down  for  a  three-years'  whaling  voyage, 
and  was  taken  off  to  sea,  leaving  the  woman  with  an  old  father 
and  three  children  to  care  for.  Many  a  night,  the  old  man  says, 
has  the  poor  creature  walked  up  from  the  lower  part  of  the  city 
(some  three  or  four  miles)  with  four  dozen  shirts  on  her  back, 
through  snow  and  wet,  and  then,  without  fire  or  food,  in  her  wet 
clothes,  has  worked  till  the  dawn  of  day  for  the  poor  little  ones 
dependent  on  her.  He  has  seen  the  blood  come  from  her  mouth 
and  nose  after  some  of  these  efforts.  Still  more  bitter  than  all 
this,  was  the  sense  of  desertion  by  her  husband.  But  it  was  all 
in  vain.  The  children  for  whom  she  had  slaved,  and  whom  she 
loved  more  than  her  own  life,  were  attacked  with  scarlet  fever, 
and  two  of  them  died  in  the  mother's  arms.  One  only,  a  sweet 
little  girl,  was  left.  With  them  went  the  spring  of  hope  and 
courage  which  had  sustained  the  hard-working  mother.  Her 
father  says  she  never  shed  a  tear,  but  she  lost  heart ;  and,  though 
never  doubting  of  the  goodness  of  her  Great  Father,  she  had 
not  the  spirit  for  the  remaining  work  of  life.  Her  exposures 
and  hard  labor  had  brought  on  a  cough,  and  finally  a  disease 
of  the  lungs.  She  was  at  last  unable  to  work,  and  could  only 
lie  upon  her  bed  and  depend  on  the  chance  charities  of  strangers. 

"  The  teacher  of  our  Fortieth-street  School,  who,  in  a  way 
unseen  and  unknown  to  the  world,  is  a  minister  of  mercy  and 
goodness  to  all  that  quarter  of  the  city,  first  discovered  her,  and 
has  managed,  with  a  little  aid  here  and  there,  to  lighten  her 
dying  hours. 

"  I  was  called  in  the  other  day  and  held  a  long  conversation 
with  her.  She  has  no  more  fears  or  anxieties  ;  she  is  not  even 
troubled  about  her  little  one.  God  will  care  for  her.  '  Once/ 
she  said,  '  I  felt  it  so  hard  to  lose  the  children,  but  now  I  am 
glad  they  are  gone  !  They  will  be  much  better  where  they  are 
than  here.  I  have  put  everything  away  now/  she  added,  with 
an  expression  of  sublime  faith  and  hope  on  a  face  whose  worn 
features  the  hectic  flush  made  almost  beautiful  again.  '  I  trust 
all  to  my  Redeemer.    Through  him  alone  I  hope.    He  will  for- 


168    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


give  me  and  receive  me/  She  spoke  of  her  many  trials  and 
sorrows — they  were  all  over,  and  she  was  glad  she  was  soon  to 
be  at  rest. 

"  We  asked  about  her  food.  She  said  she  could  not  relish 
many  things,  and  she  often  thought  if  she  could  only  get  some 
of  the  good  old  plain  things  she  had  in  Ireland  at  her  brother's 
farm  she  should  feel  so  much  better. 

"  I  told  her  we  would  get  her  some  good  genuine  oat-meal 
cake  from  an  Irish  friend.  Her  face  lighted  up  at  once,  and 
she  seemed  cheered  by  the  promise. 

" «  Oh,  sir !  I  have  thought  so  much  of  my  mother  in  thi3 
sickness,  and  those  happy,  happy  days.  I  was  such  a  happy 
girl !  How  little  she  thought  I  would  come  to  this  !  We  lived 
in  the  North,  you  know,  and  had  everything  very  comfortable, 
as  all  the  Protestant  Irish  do.  But  it's  all  gone,  gone/  she  said, 
dreamily, '  and  I  wouldn't  have  it  back  again,  for  God  is  the  best 
friend — He  knows, 

" '  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  die ! 
His  rod  and  His  staff  they  comfort  me/ 

"  The  words  were  simple,  but  the  whole  was  touching  beyond 
description,  forcing  tears  whether  one  would  or  not. 

"  We  were  glad  to  find  that  her  clergyman,  the  Missionary 
of  the  Calvary  Church,  had  administered  the  sacraments  to  her 
that  day.  May  she  soon  be  where  the  sting  of  poverty,  the  rubs 
and  blows  of  hard  circumstances,  the  loneliness  of  desertion,  the 
anxiety  and  care,  and  hopelessness,  and  disappointment  which 
have  followed  her  unhappy  path,  shall  cease  forever,  and  the 
unfortunate  one  shall  enter  on  her  new  and  blissful  life  of  peace 
and  abiding  love !  " 

DISCOURAGEMENT. 

"  I  was  lately  visiting  a  poor  woman,  who  had  seen  better  cir- 
cumstances, the  wife  of  a  worker  in  an  iron-foundry.  The  room 
was  bare  but  clean,  and  the  woman  was  neatly  dressed,  though 
her  face  looked  thin  and  worn,  and  her  eyes  had  an  unusual  ex- 
pression of  settled,  sad  discouragement.  A  little  girl  of  ten  or 
eleven  sat  near  her  tending  a  baby,  with  the  same  large  sad  blue 


TROUBLE  AMONG  THE  POOR. 


169 


eyes,  as  if  the  expression  of  the  mother  had  come  to  receive  a 
permanent  reflection  in  the  child's  face.  Her  husband  had  been 
sick  for  several  months,  which  put  them  all  behind,  though  now 
he  was  getting  work  enough. 

" '  You  know  how  it  is,  sir,'  she  said,  '  with  working  people  : 
if  a  man  falls  out  of  work  for  a  day,  the  family  feels  it  for  a 
week  after.  We  can  hardly  make  the  two  ends  meet  when  he's 
well,  and  the  moment  he  is  sick  it  comes  hard  upon  us.  Many's 
the  morning  he's  gone  down  to  the  foundry  without  his  break- 
fast, and  I've  had  to  send  out  the  little  Maggy  there,  to  the 
neighbors,  for  bits  of  bread,  and  then  she's  taken  it  down  to 
him.' 

"  '  She  is  a  beggar,  then  ? ' 

" 1  Yes,  sir,  and  sorrow  of  it.  We  never  thought  we  could 
come  to  that.  My  mother  brought  me  up  most  dacently,  and 
my  husband,  he's  a  very  good  scholard,  and  could  be  a  dark  or 
anything,  but  we  can't  help  it !  We  must  have  bread.  I  would 
be  willing  to  do  anything,  wash,  scrub,  or  do  plain  sewing  ;  and 
I  keep  trying,  but  I  never  find  anything.  There  seems  no  help 
for  us  ;  and  I  sometimes  feel  clean  gone  and  down-hearted :  and 
I'm  troubled  at  other  things,  too." 

" '  What  other  things  V 

"'At  my  sin,  ye  see.' 

" '  What  do  you  mean  V 

" '  Well,  sir,  if  I  could  only  have  peace  of  mind !  But  I  work 
on  from  Monday  morn  to  Saturday  night,  and  I  never  hear  or 
see  anything  good  ;  and  when  Sunday  comes,  I  can't  go  out ;  I 
haven't  any  bonnet  for  my  head,  or  any  dress  fit  for  a  dacent 
church.  I  just  walk  the  floor,  and  I  don't  dare  to  think  of  ever 
meeting  God." 

"  '  Are  you  a  Catholic  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  sir  ;  I  was  brought  up  one,  and  so  was  my  husband, 
but  now  it's  little  we  know,  as  they  say,  of  mass,  meeting,  or 
church ;  we  ain't  neither  Catholics  or  Protestants ;  I  might  as 
well  be  a  hay  then.  We  haven't  any  books,  nor  a  prayer-book, 
or  anything.  I  know  it,  sir,  we  ought  to  pray/'  she  continued, 
"  but  I  kneel  down  sometimes,  and  I  get  up  and  say  to  my  hus- 
band, '  It's  no  use  my  praying,  I  am  too  much  distracted.'  If  I 
could  only  get  some  good  to  my  soul,  for  I  think  of  dying  often, 


170   THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


and  I  see  I  should  not  be  at  all  ready.  Life  is  a  burden  to  me* 
I  spoke  of  the  hopes  and  consolations  which  can  come  to 
poor  as  well  as  rich,  and  of  her  children.  '  Yes,  sir ;  no  one 
can  tell  the  patience  of  the  Lord.  How  much  He  has  borne 
from  me  !  Oh,  if  I  could  only  have  peace  of  mind,  and  see 
those  children  getting  on  well,  I  should  be  glad  to  die.  That 
little  girl  cries  every  time  we  send  her  out  to  beg,  and  she's 
learning  nothing  good.  But  I  am  afraid  nothing  will  ever  come 
lucky  to  us ;  and  oh,  sir,  if  you  could  have  seen  how  we  started 
in  Ireland,  and  what  a  home  my  mother  had ;  she  was  a  very 
different  woman  from  what  I  am/ 

"  We  spoke  of  her  attending  the  mission  meeting  in  Fortieth 
Street,  and  reading  a  Testament  given  by  us.  She  seemed  glad 
to  do  both. 

" '  Oh,  sir,  if  I  could  only  feel  that  friendship  with  God  you 
spoke  of,  I  shouldn't  care  ;  I  could  bear  anything ;  but  to  work 
as  we  are  doing,  and  to  have  such  trouble,  and  see  the  poor  wee 
thing  grow  thinner  and  poorer,  and  my  man  almost  down 
broken,  and  then  to  get  no  nearer — no,  we  keep  getting  farther 
from  the  Lord  !  Oh,  if  I  was  only  ready  to  die !  I  haven't 
nothing  in  this  world.' 

"  Let  us  hope  that  the  peace-giving  words  of  Christ,  the  love 
of  the  Redeemer,  may  at  length  plant  in  that  poor,  weary  dis- 
couraged soul  the  seeds  of  hope  and  immortal  faith,  even  as 
they  have  done  in  so  many  thousands  weary  and  heavy-laden  !" 

THE  SWILL-GATHERER'S  CHILD. 

"  Most  of  those  familiar  with  the  East  River  Industrial  School 
will  remember  a  poor  widow — a  swill-gatherer — who  lived  in  the 
notorious  village  of  shanties  near  Forty-second  Street,  known  as 
'  Dutch  Hill.'  She  owned  a  small  shanty,  which  had  been  put 
up  on  some  rich  man's  lot  as  a  squatter's  hut,  and  there,  with 
her  pigs  and  dogs  and  cat  in  the  same  room,  she  made  her  home. 
From  morning  till  evening  she  was  trailing  about  the  streets, 
filling  up  her  swill-cans,  and  at  night  she  came  back  to  the  little 
dirty  den,  and  spent  her  evenings — we  hardly  know  how.  She 
had  one  smart  little  girl  who  went  to  the  Industrial  School.  As 
the  child  came  back  day  by  day,  improving  in  appearance,  sing- 


THE  SWILL-GATHEKEK'S  CHILD. 


171 


ing  her  sweet  songs,  and  with  new  ideas  of  how  ladies  looked 
and  lived,  the  mother  began  to  grow  ashamed  of  her  nasty  home. 
And  I  remember  entering  one  day,  and  finding,  to  my  surprise, 
pigs  and  rubbish  cleared  out,  the  walls  well  scrubbed,  and  an 
old  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  the  mother  sitting  in  state  on  a  chair! 
It  was  the  quiet  teachings  of  the  school  coming  forth  in  the 
houses  of  the  poor. 

"After  a  while  the  little  girl  began  to  get  higher  ideas  of  what 
she  might  become,  and  went  out  with  another  girl  to  a  place  in 
the  West.  She  did  well  there,  and  was  contented,  but  her 
mother  was  continually  anxious  and  unhappy  about  her,  and 
finally,  after  some  years,  forced  her  to  return  to  the  city.  She 
was  now  a  very  neat,  active  young  girl,  far  above  her  mother's 
condition,  and  the  change  ba^k  to  the  pig-shanty  and  Dutch  Hill 
was  anything  but  pleasant.  The  old  woman  hid  away  her  best 
clothes  to  prevent  her  going  back,  and  seemed  determined  to 
make  her  a  swill-gatherer  like  herself.  Gradually,  as  might  be 
expected,  we  began  to  hear  bad  stories  about  our  old  scholar. 
The  people  of  the  neighborhood  said,  she  drank  and  quarreled 
with  her  mother,  and  that  she  was  frequenting  houses  where 
low  company  met.  Another  of  the  worst  Dutch  Hill  girls — the 
daughter  of  a  drilnkard — was  constantly  with  her.  Soon  we 
heard  that  the  other  young  girl  had  been  sent  to  Blackwell's 
Island,  and  that  this  one  must  be  saved  now,  or  she  would  be 
utterly  lost.  I  went  up  at  once  to  the  old  woman's  shanty, 
though  with  but  the  feeblest  hopes  of  doing  anything,  yet  with 
many  unuttered  prayers.  For  who  that  knows  the  career  before 
the  street-girl  of  the  city  can  help  breathing  out  his  soul  in 
agony  of  prayer  for  her,  when  the  time  of  choice  comes  ? 

"  When  I  entered  the  shanty,  the  young  girl  was  asleep  on 
the  bed,  and  the  mother  sat  on  a  box,  crooning  and  weeping. 

"  '  Och,  and  why  did  I  iver  tak  ye  from  that  swate  place — ye 
that  was  makin'  an  honest  woman  of  yoursel'  !  Ach,  God  bless 
your  honor  !  can  ye  help  her  ?  She's  a'most  gone.  Can't  ye  do 
somethin'  ? ' 

" 1  Well,  how  is  she  doing  now?' 

"  '  Och  (in  a  whisper),  your  honor,  she  brought  three  bad  fel- 
lers last  night,  and  she  brake  my  own  door  in,  and  I  tould  'em — 
says  I,  I'm  an  honest  woman,  and  I  never  had  ony  sich  in  my 


172    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


kin — and  she  was  drunk — yes,  yer  honor,  she,  my  own  darlint, 
strak  me,  and  wanted  to  turn  me  out — and  now  there  she's  been 
sleepin'  all  the  mornin'.  Ach,  why  did  I  tak  her  out  of  her 
place  ! ' 

"  Here  the  girl  woke  up,  and  sat  up  on  the  bed,  covering  her 
face  in  shame.  I  said  some  few  sober  words  to  her,  and  then  the 
mother  threw  herself  down  on  the  floor,  tears  pouring  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  '  Ach,  darlint !  my  own  swate  darlint !  will  ye  not  list  to  the 
gintleman  ?  Sure  an'  ye  wouldn't  bring  disgrace  to  yer  ould 
mither  and  yer  family !  We've  had  six  generations  of  honest 
people,  and  niver  wan  like  this  !  Ach,  to  think  of  comin'  to  your 
ind  on  the  Island,  and  be  on  the  town !  For  the  love  of  the 
blessed  Yargin,  do  give  them*  all  up,  and  say  ye  won't  taste  a 
drop — do,  darlint ! ' 

"  The  girl  seemed  obdurate  ;  so  I  took  up  the  sermon,  and  wa 
both  pleaded,  and  pictured  the  shame  and  pain  and  wretched  life 
and  more  wretched  death  before  her.  There  is  no  need  of  deli- 
cacy in  such  cases,  and  the  strongest  old  Bible  Saxon  words 
come  home  the  deepest.  At  last,  her  tears  began  to  flow,  and 
finally  she  gave  her  full  assent  to  breaking  off  from  liquor  and 
from  her  bad  company  (it  should  be  remembered  she  was  only 
about  sixteen) ;  and  she  would  show  her  repentance  by  going 
back  to  the  place  where  she  was,  if  they  would  receive  her.  I 
hardly  expected  she  would  do  so ;  but  in  a  day  or  two  she  was 
in  the  office,  and  started  for  her  old  situation.  Since  that  we 
have  had  a  letter  from  her  and  her  mistress,  and  she  seems  to  be 
getting  on  wonderfully  well.    May  God  uphold  her  ! 

"  The  following  is  a  letter  we  have  received  from  her  since  : 

B  -,  Penn.,  October  11. 

" '  My  dear  Mother — I  have  the  pleasure  of  writing  a  few 
lines  to  you,  to  let  you  know  that  I  am  well.  I  got  safe  back  to 
my  place  ;  kind  friends  took  me  back  again  ;  I  have  got  into  the 
country,  where  there  is  plenty  of  everything  to  live  on.  Dear 
mother,  I  would  like  very  much  to  hear  from  you.  I  hope  you 
are  all  well ;  please  write  soon.  I  want  you  to  show  this  letter 
to  Miss  Spratt.*    Good-by,  dear  mother.  M. 


*  Now  Mrs.  Hurley. 


THE  LOST  SAVED. 


173 


"'Dear  Miss  Spratt — As  I  was  writing  to  my  mother,  I 
thought  I  would  like  to  write  a  few  lines  to  you.  Now  that  I 
am  so  far  away,  I  feel  a  grateful  remembrance  of  your  kindness. 
I  am  very  sorry  I  did  not  have  a  chance  of  going  to  see  you  be- 
fore I  left  the  city.  Please  tell  Mr.  Brace  I  am  much  obliged  to 
him  for  his  kindness  :  tell  him  I  got  safe  back  to  Mr.  M/s,  and 
have  a  very  good  home.    Good-by,  Miss  Spratt.' " 

The  East  Eiver  Industrial  School  (at  No.  206  East 
Fortieth  Street)  still  continues  its  humble  but  pro- 
found labors  of  love.  Mrs.  Hurley  is  still  there,  the 
"friend  of  the  poor''  for  miles  around,  carrying  sym- 
pathy, advice,  and  assistance  to  thousands  of  unbe- 
friended  creatures,  and  teaching  faithfully  all  day  in 
the  School.  Two  gentlemen  have  especially  aided  her 
in  providing  food  and  clothing  for  her  little  ones ;  and 
the  lady- volunteers  still  give  liberally  of  their  means 
and  time.  May  the  School  long  shine  as  a  light  in 
one  of  the  dark  places  of  the  city. 


CHAPTEE  XY. 


THE  PROTESTANT  POOR  AND  STREET-ROVERS. 

It  is  not  often  that  our  efforts  carry  us  among 
Protestant  poor,  but  it  happens  that  on  the  west 
side  of  the  city,  near  Tenth  Avenue  and  Twenty- 
seventh  Street,  is  a  considerable  district  of  English 
and  Scotch  laboring  people,  who  are  mainly  Protest- 
ants. 

A  meeting  of  ladies  was  called  in  the  western 
part  of  the  city,  in  like  manner  with  the  proceedings  at 
the  formation  of  the  other  Schools ;  and  a  School  was 
proposed.  The  wife  of  a  prominent  property-holder 
in  the  neighborhood,  a  lady  of  great  energy  of  char- 
acter, Mrs.  E.  E.,  took  a  leading  part,  and  greatly 
aided  the  undertaking 5  other  ladies  joined,  and  the 
result  was  thte  formation  of  the 

HUDSON  RIVER  INDUSTRIAL  SCHOOL, 

the  fourth  of  our  Schools  founded  in  1854.  With  all 
these  Schools,  in  the  beginning,  the  ladies  themselves 
raised  all  the  funds  for  their  support,  and,  as  I  have 
related,  devoted  an  incredible  amount  of  time  to  aid- 
ing in  them,  there  being  usually,  however,  two 
salaried  teachers. 


PROTESTANT  POOR. 


175 


The  experience  in  the  Edinburgh  Eagged  Schools, 
I  was  assured,  when  there,  was,  that  you  cannot 
depend  on  volunteer  help  after  the  first  enthusiasm 
has  passed  by.    This  is  not  our  experience. 

As  one  set  of  "  volunteers "  have  withdrawn  or 
leave  the  work,  others  appear,  and  there  are  still  in 
this  and  some  of  our  other  Industrial  Schools,  most 
active  and  efficient  voluntary  helpers.  Gradually, 
however,  the  support  and  supervision  of  the  Schools 
fell  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  the  central  au- 
thority— The  Children's  Aid  Society. 

The  obtaining  a  share  in  the  Common  School  Fund 
enabled  the  Society  to  do  more  for  these  useful  chari- 
ties and  to  found  new  ones. 

In  the  Hudson  Eiver  School,  it  cannot  be  said  that 
the  Protestant  poor  proved  much  better  than  the 
Catholic ;  in  fact,  it  has  often  seemed  to  me  that  when 
a  Protestant  is  reduced  to  extreme  poverty,  and,  above 
all,  a  Yankee,  he  becomes  the  most  wretched  and 
useless  of  all  paupers.  The  work  and  its  results  were 
similar  on  the  west  side  to  those  in  the  other  districts 
which  I  have  already  described. 

"OTSCTTLAR  ORPHANS." 

Our  attention  had  thus  far  been  directed  mainly 
to  girls  in  these  Industrial  School  efforts.  They 
seemed  the  class  exposed  to  the  most  terrible  evils, 
and  besides,  through  our  other  enterprises,  we  were 


176    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOBK. 

sheltering,  teaching,  and  benefiting  for  life  vast  num- 
bers of  lads. 

We  determined  now  to  try  the  effect  of  industry 
and  schooling  on  the  roving  boys,  and  I  chose  a  dis- 
trict where  we  had  to  make  head  against  a  "  sea  of 
evils."  This  was  in  the  quarter  bordering  on  East 
Thirty -fourth  Street  and  Second  Avenue.  There 
seemed  to  be  there  a  society  of  irreclaimable  little 
vagabonds.  They  hated  School  with  an  inextinguish- 
able hatred ;  they  had  a  constitutional  love  for  smash- 
ing windows  and  pilfering  apple-stands.  They  could 
dodge  an  "M.  P."  as  a  fox  dodges  a  hound;  they 
disliked  anything  so  civilized  as  a  bed-chamber,  but 
preferred  old  boxes  and  empty  barns,  and  when  they 
were  .caught  it  required  a  very  wide-awake  policeman, 
and  such  an  Asylum-yard  as  hardly  exists  in  New 
York,  to  keep  them. 

I  have  sometimes  stopped,  admiringly,  to  watch 
the  skill  and  cunning  with  which  the  little  rascals, 
some  not  more  than  ten  years  old,  would  diminish  a 
load  of  wood  left  on  the  docks;  the  sticks  were  passed 
from  one  to  another,  and  the  lad  nearest  the  pile  was 
apparently  engaged  eagerly  in  playing  marbles.  If 
the  woodman's  attention  was  called  to  his  loss,  they 
were  off  like  a  swarm  of  cockroaches. 

We  opened  a  School  with  all  the  accessories  for 
reaching  and  pleasing  them  5  our  teacher  was  a  skillful 
mechanic,  a  young  man  of  excellent  judgment  and 


STREET  ARABS. 


MUSCULAR  ORPHANS." 


177 


hearty  sympathy  with  boys ;  he  offered  to  teach  them 
carpentering  and  box-making  and  pay  them  wages. 
Common-school  lessons  were  given,  also,  and  a  good 
warm  meal  provided  at  noon.  We  had  festivals  and 
magic-lantern  exhibitions  and  lectures.  We  taught, 
and  we  fed  and  clothed.  In  return,  they  smashed  our 
windows;  they  entered  the  premises  at  night  and 
carried  off  everything  they  could  find;  they  howled 
before  the  door,  and  yelled  u  Protestant  School!" 
We  arrested  one  or  two  for  the  burglary,  as  a  warning, 
but  the  little  flibbertigibbets  escaped  from  the  police 
like  rats,  and  we  let  them  go  with  the  fright  they  had 
had.  Some  few  of  the  worst  we  induced  to  go  to  the 
country,  and  others  we  had  arrested  as  vagrants, 
without  appearing  ourselves,  until  a  kind  of  dark  sus- 
picion spread  among  them  against  the  writer  that  he 
had  the  power  of  spiriting  away  bad  boys  to  distant 
regions  by  some  mysterious  means.  Those  that  did 
go  to  the  country  proved  of  the  kind  called  by  a 
Western  paper  "  muscular  orphans,"  for  an  unfortu- 
nate employer  undertaking  to  administer  corporal 
punishment  to  two  of  them,  the  little  vagabonds  turned 
and  chastised  him  and  then  fled. 

The  following  case  is  noted  in  our  Journal  of  these 
up-town  boys : 

A  HARD  CASE  REFORMED. 
"  Mr.  Brace — Dear  Sir :  You  request  me  to  send  you  some 

reminiscences  of  the  early  life  of  Michael  S  n.    My  most 

vivid  recollection  of  him  is  his  taking  the  broomstick  to  me 


178    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


once,  as  I  was  about  to  punish,  him  for  some  misdemeanor. 
Being  the  first  and  last  of  my  pupils  who  ever  attempted  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  it  stands  out  in  bold  relief  in  my  memory.  I 
soon  conquered  the  broomstick,  but  on  the  first  opportunity  he 
ran  out,  thus  ending  his  Industrial  School  career. 

"  His  most  marked  characteristic  was  a  desire  to  travel,  and 
he  presented  himself  with  the  freedom  of  the  city  at  a  very 
early  age,  going  off  for  weeks  at  a  time,  sleeping  in  entries  and 
around  engine-houses,  and  disdaining  bolts  and  bars  when  they 
were  turned  upon  him.  One  of  your  visitors  calling  to  consult 
with  his  mother  as  to  what  could  be  done  with  him,  found  him 
vigorously  kicking  the  panels  out  of  the  door,  she  having  locked 
him  in  for  safe-keeping  till  she  came  home  from  work.  The 
Captain  of  Police,  tired  of  having  him  brought  in  so  frequently, 
thought  one  day  of  a  punishment  that  he  expected  would  effect- 
ually frighten  him,  which  was — to  hang  him.  His  mother  con- 
senting, he  was  solemnly  hung  up  by  the  feet  to  a  post,  till  he 
promised  reformation.  This  failing  to  produce  the  desired  effect, 
she  placed  him  with  "  the  Brothers,"  who  put  him  in  a  kind  of 
prison,  where  he  had  to  be  chained  by  the  leg  to  prevent  him 
from  scaling  the  walls.  Taking  him  from  there,  after  some 
months  of  pretty  severe  discipline,  he  very  soon  went  back  to 
his  old  habits,  when  she  had  him  sent  to  Randall's  Island.  Here 
he  was  discovered  in  a  plan  to  swim  to  the  opposite  shore 
(something  of  a  feat  for  a  boy  of  twelve).  Fearing  he  would 
attempt  it  and  be  drowned,  she  took  him  away  and  put  him  in 
the  Juvenile  Asylum,  where  he  remained  several  months,  and 
finally  seemed  so  much  tamed  down  that  she  ventured  on  taking 
him  out  and  sending  him  to  a  place  which  you  procured  for  him 
at  Hastings.  But,  pretty  soon,  the  ruling  passion,  strong  as  ever, 
took  possession  of  him,  and  he  started  on  a  tour  through  the 
surrounding  villages. 

"  Being  brought  home  again,  he  told  his  mother  very  delibe- 
rately, one  morning,  that  she  need  not  expect  him  home  any 
more ;  he  was  going  to  live  with  a  soldier's  wife.  Knowing 
that  if  he  went  he  would  be  in  a  very  den  of  wickedness,  she 
came  to  the  resolution  to  give  him  to  your  care,  and  let  him  be 
sent  to  the  West. 

"  It  would  require  a  volume  to  tell  of  all  his  freaks  and  wan- 


A  ROVER. 


179 


derings ;  his  scaling  of  fences,  and  breaking  out  of  impossible 
places.  Towards  the  last  of  his  New  York  life  he  began  to  add 
other  vices  to  his  original  stock — such  as  drinking,  smoking,  and 
swearing ;  yet  strange  to  say,  he  disdained  to  lie,  and  was  never 
known  to  steal ;  and  his  face  would  glow  with  satisfaction  when, 
he  could  take  charge  of  an  infant.  His  mother  hears,  with 
trembling  hope,  the  good  accounts  of  him  from  the  West,  scarcely 
daring  to  believe  that  her  wild  and  vagrant  son  will  ever  make 
a  steady,  useful  man. 

"Truly  yours, 

"Mrs.  E.  S.  Hurley." 

The  yOung  rovers  gradually  became  softened  and 
civilized  under  the  combined  influences  of  warm  din- 
ners 7  carpentering,  and  good  teaching ;  but  we  found 
the  difficulty  to  be  that  we  did  not  have  sufficient  hold 
over  them  out  of  school  hours ;  we  needed  more  appli- 
ances for  such  habitual  vagabonds.  What  was  wanted 
was  a  Lodging-house  and  all  its  influences,  as  well  as 
School,  for  the  former  gives  a  greater  control  than 
does  a  simple  Industrial  School. 

We  accordingly  transferred  the  whole  enterprise 
to  a  still  worse  quarter,  where  I  had  done  my  first 
work  in  visiting,  and  which  I  thoroughly  knew,  the 
the  region  on  East  Eiver,  at  the  foot  of  Eleventh 
Street.  Here  was  a  numerous  band  of  similar  boys, 
who  slept  anywhere,  and  lived  by  petty  pilferings 
from  the  iron-works  and  wood-yards  and  by  street 
jobs. 

In  this  place  we  combined  our  carpenters'  shop 
with  Day-school,  Mght-school,  Beading-room,  and 
Lodging-house,  and  exerted  thus  a  variety  of  influences 


180    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

over  the  u  Arabs,"  which  soon  began  to  reform  and 
civilize  them.  Here  we  had  no  difficulties,  and  made 
a  steady  progress  as  we  had  done  everywhere  else. 

At  present,  some  gentle  female  teachers  guide  the 
Industrial  School.  We  have  dropped  the  carpentering, 
as  what  the  boys  need  is  the  habit  of  industry  and  a 
primary  school-training  more  than  a  trade  ;  and  we 
have  found  that  a  refined  woman  can  influence  these 
rough  little  vagabonds  even  more  than  a  man. 

Subsequently,  another  school  was  founded  in  the 
quarter  from  which  we  removed  this,  and  is  now  held 
in  East  Thirty-fourth  Street. 

One  of  the  benefactions  which  we  hope  for  in  the 
future  is  the  erection  of  a  suitable  building  for  a 
Lodging-house,  Beading-room,  Day-school,  and  Mis- 
sion, in  the  miserable  quarter  on  East  Eiver,  near 
Thirty-fourth  Street. 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

NEW  METHODS  OF  TEACHING-. 

A  lady  of  high  culture  and  position,  who  felt 
peculiarly  the  responsibilities  of  the  fortunate  toward 
the  unfortunate,  conceived  the  idea  of  doing  some- 
thing to  elevate  the  condition  of  the  destitute  classes 
in  the  quarter  of  the  city  between  the  East  Eiver  and 
Avenue  B.  She  accordingly  made  the  proposition  to 
us  of  an  Industrial  School  in  that  neighborhood. 

We  gladly  accepted,  and  soon  secured  a  room,  and 
gathered  a  goodly  company  of  poor  children,  mostly 
Grermans.  Fortunately  for  our  enterprise,  we  chanced 
on  a  teacher  of  singular  ability  and  earnestness  of 
purpose,  a  graduate  of  the  best  Normal  School  in  the 
country,  the  Oswego  Training  School,  and  thoroughly 
versed  in  the  u  Object  System  v — Miss  Jane  Andrews. 

The  founder  of  our  school  proved  as  earnest  in 
carrying  out,  as  she  had  been  generous  in  forming, 
her  benevolent  plan. 

She  took  part  herself,  several  times  each  week,  in 
teaching  the  children,  and  was  indefatigable  in  pro- 
moting their  pleasures,  as  well  as  aiding  their  instruc- 
tion.  For  many  years  now,  this  kind  friend  of  the 


182    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

poor  has  supported  tMs  school  and  labored  among 
its  children.  They  all  know  and  love  her,  and  her 
memory  will  not  die  among  them. 

The  great  peculiarity  of  this  school  has  now  been 
adapted  in  the  other  Industrial  Schools,  under  the 
name  of  the  "  Object  System  of  Teaching  v — a  method 
which  has  proved  so  singularly  successful  with  the 
children  of  the  poor,  that  I  shall  describe  it  somewhat 
at  length. 

THE  OBJECT  SYSTEM. 

u  I  began  with  children,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "  as 
nature  does  with  savages,  first  bringing  an  image 
before  their  eyes,  and  then  seeking  a  word  to  express 
the  perception  to  which  it  gives  rise."  This  statement 
of  the  great  reformer  of  education  expresses  the  essen- 
tial principle  of  the  Object  System.  The  child's  mind 
grasps  first  things  rather  than  names ;  it  deals  with 
objects  before  words;  it  takes  a  thing  as  a  whole  rather 
than  in  parts.  Its  perceptive  and  observing  faculties 
are  those  first  awakened,  and  should  be  the  first 
used  in  education ;  reflection,  analysis,  and  comparison 
must  come  afterward.  The  vice  of  the  former  systems 
of  education  has  been,  that  words  have  so  much  taken 
in  the  child's  intellect  the  place  of  things,  and  its 
knowledge  has  become  so  often  a  mere  routine,  or  a 
mechanical  memorizing  of  names.  The  scholar  was 
not  taught  to  look  beneath  words,  and  to  learn  the 
precise  thing  which  the  word  symbolized.    He  was 


ROUTINE  TEACHING. 


183 


trained  to  repeat  like  a  machine.  He  did  not  observe 
closely,  he  had  not  been  educated  to  apply  his  own 
faculties/  and  therefore  he  could  not  think  afterward. 
The  old  system  reversed  the  natural  order.  It  began 
with  what  is  the  ripest  fruit  of  the  mature  intellect — 
definitions,  or  the  learning  of  rules  and  statements  of 
principles,  and  went  on  later  to  observing  facts  and 
applying  principles.  It  analyzed  in  the  beginning, 
and  only  later  in  the  course  regarded  things  each  as 
a  whole. 

The  consequence  was,  that  children  were  months 
and  years  in  taking  the  first  steps  in  education — such 
as  learning  to  read — because  they  had  begun  wrong. 
They  had  no  accurate  habits  of  observation,  and,  as  a 
natural  result,  soon  fell  into  loose  habits  of  thinking. 
What  they  knew  they  knew  vaguely.  When  their 
acquirements  were  tested  they  were  found  valueless. 
The  simplest  principles  of  mathematics  were  almost 
unknown  to  them,  because  they  had  learned  the 
science  by  rote,  and  had  never  exercised  their  minds 
on  it.  They  could  apply  none  of  them.  Algebra, 
instead  of  being  an  implement,  was  of  no  more  practi- 
cal use  to  them  than  Sanscrit  would  be.  Geometry 
was  as  abstract  as  metaphysics.  They  had  never 
learned  it  by  solid  figures,  or  studied  it  intelligently. 
Grammar  was  a  memorized  collection  of  dry  abstract 
rules  and  examples.  Natural  history  was  only  a 
catalogue,  and  geography  a  dictionary  learned  by  heart. 


184   THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Our  manufacturers,  who  had  occasion  in  former  years 
to  employ  these  youths  from  our  Public  Schools,  found 
them  utterly  incompetent  for  using  their  faculties  on 
practical  subjects.  Nor  did  they  go  forth  with  minds 
expanded,  and  ready  to  receive  the  germs  of  knowl- 
edge which  might  be,  as  it  Were,  floating  in  the  atmos- 
phere.  Their  faculties  had  not  been  aroused. 

The  "  Object  System 79  attempts  to  lay  down  the 
principles  which  have  been  tested  in  primary  educa- 
tion, in  the  form  of  a  Science ;  so  that  the  teacher  not 
gifted  with  the  genius  of  invention  and  the  talent  for 
conveying  knowledge  shall  be  able  to  awaken  and 
train  the  child's  intellect  as  if  he  were. 

Its  first  principle  is  to  exercise  the  senses,  but 
never  during  any  long  period  at  once.  The  play  of 
the  children  is  so  contrived  as  to  employ  their  sense 
of  touch,  of  weight,  and  of  harmony.  Colors  are 
placed  before  them,  and  they  are  trained  in  distin- 
guishing the  different  delicate  shades — in  the  recogni- 
tion of  which  children  are  singularly  deficient.  Num- 
bers are  taught  by  objects,  such  as  small  beans  or 
marbles,  and  then  when  numerals  are  learned,  regular 
tables  of  addition  and  substraction  are  written  on  the 
board  by  the  teacher  at  the  dictation  of  the  scholar. 

The  great  step  in  all  education  is  the  learning  the 
use  of  that  wonderful  vehicle  and  symbol  of  human 
thought,  the  printed  word. 

Here  the  object  system  has  made  the  greatest  ad- 


SOUNDS  OF  LETTERS. 


185 


vance.  The  English  language  has  the  unfortunate 
peculiarity  of  a  great  many  sounds  to  each  vowel,  and 
of  an  utter  want  of  connection  between  the  name  and 
the  sound  of  the  letter.  No  mature  mind  can  easily  ap- 
preciate the  dark  and  inysterious  gulf  which,  to  the 
infant's  view,  separates  the  learning  the  letters  and 
reading.  The  two  seem  to  be  utterly  different  ac- 
quirements. The  new  methods  escape  the  difficulty 
in  part  by  not  teaching  the  names,  but  the  sounds,  of 
the  letters  first,  and  then  leading  the  child  to  put  his 
sounds  together  in  the  form  of  a  word,  and  next  to 
print  the  word  on  the  black-board,  the  teacher  calling 
on  the  scholar  to  find  a  similar  one  in  a  card  or  book. 
By  this  ingenious  device,  the  modern  infant,  instead 
of  being  whipped  into  reading,  is  beguiled  into  it 
pleasantly  and  imperceptibly,  and  makes  his  progress 
by  a  philosophical  law.  He  reads  before  he  knows  it. 
But  here  the  obstacle  arises  that  each  vowel,  printed 
in  the  same  type,  has  so  many  sounds.  One  ingenious 
teacher,  Dr.  Leigh,  obviates  this  by  printing  on  his 
charts  each  vowel-sound  in  a  slightly  different  form, 
and  giving  the  silent  letters  in  hair-lines.  The  objec- 
tion here  might  be  that  the  scholar  learns  a  type  dif- 
ferent from  that  in  common  use.  Still,  the  deviation 
from  the  ordinary  alphabet  is  so  slight  as  probably  not 
to  confuse  any  young  mind,  and  the  learner  can  go  on 
by  a  philosophical  classification  of  sounds.  Other 
teachers  indicate  the  different  vowel-sounds  by  accents. 


186    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


One  well-known  writer  on  the  "  Object  System," 
Mr.  Caulkins,  seems  to  approve  of  what  we  are  in- 
clined to  consider  even  more  philosophical  still — the 
learning  the  word  first,  and  the  letters  and  spelling 
afterward. 

Most  children  in  cultivated  families  learn  to  read 
in  this  way.  The  word  is  a  symbol  of  thought— a 
thing  in  itself — first,  perhaps,  connected  with  a  picture 
of  the  object  placed  at  its  side,  but  afterward  becom- 
ing phonetic,  representing  arbitrarily  any  object  by 
its  sound.  Then  other  words  are  learned — not  sepa- 
rately, but  in  association,  as  one  learns  a  foreign  lan- 
guage. Further  on,  the  pupil  analyzes,  spells,  con- 
siders each  letter,  and  notes  each  part  of  speech. 

An  objection  may  occur  here,  that  the  habit  of  cor- 
rect and  careful  spelling  will  not  be  so  well  gained  by 
this  method  as  by  the  old. 

Mr.  Caulkins's  remarks  on  this  topic  in  his  Manual 
on  "  Object  Lessons"  are  so  sensible  that  we  quote 
them  in  extenso  : — 

THE  ABC  METHOD. 

"  This  old,  long,  and  tedious  way  consists  in  teach- 
ing, first,  the  name  of  each  of  the  twenty-six  letters, 
then  in  combining  these  into  unmeaning  syllables  of 
c  two  letters/  1  three  letters/  and,  finally,  into  words 
of  c  two  syllables'  and  L  three  syllables.'  Very  little 
regard  is  had  to  the  meaning  of  the  words.   Indeed,  it 


MR.  CAULKINS'S  VIEWS, 


187 


seems  as  if  those  who  attempt  to  teach  reading  by  this 
method  supposed  that  the  chief  object  should  be  to 
make  their  pupils  fluent  in  oral  spelling ;  and  it  ends 
in  spelling,  usually,  since  children  thus  taught  go  on 
spelling  out  their  words  through  all  the  reading  les- 
sons, and  seldom  become  intelligent  readers.  They 
give  their  attention  to  the  words,  instead  of  the  ideas 
intended  to  be  represented  by  them.  When  the  child 
has  succeeded  in  learning  the  names  of  the  twenty-six 
letters,  he  has  gained  no  knowledge  of  their  real  use 
as  representatives  of  sounds,  and,  consequently,  little 
ability  in  determining  how  to  pronounce  a  new  word 
from  naming  its  letters.  Besides,  the  names  of  the 
letters  constantly  mislead  him  when  formed  into 
words. 

u  He  may  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  each  of 
the  twenty-six  individual  letters,  so  as  to  recognize 
their  faces  and  be  able  to  call  them  by  name  singly ; 
but  when  these  same  letters  change  places  with  their 
fellows,  as  they  are  grouped  into  different  words,  he  is 
frequently  unable  to  address  many  of  them  in  a  proper 
manner,  or  to  determine  what  duties  they  perform  in 
their  different  places. 

"  Again,  the  words  that  are  learned  by  naming 
over  the  letters  which  compose  them  seldom  repre- 
sent any  ideas  to  the  young  learner;  indeed,  too  many 
of  the  words  learned  by  this  method  are  only  mean- 
ingless monosyllables.    The  children  begin  to  read 


188    THE  PANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK.  , 

without  understanding  what  they  read,  and  thus  is 
laid  the  foundation  for  the  mechanical,  unintelligible 
reading  which  characterizes  most  of  that  heard  in 
schools  where  the  ABO  method  is  used.  This  plan 
is  in  violation  of  fundamental  laws  of  teaching ;  it 
attempts  to  compel  the  child  to  do  two  things  at  the 
same  time,  and  to  do  both  in  an  unnatural  manner, 
viz.,  to  learn  reading  and  spelling  simultaneously,  and 
reading  through  spelling.  Eeading  has  to  deal  with 
sounds  and  signs  of  thought. 

u  Spelling  rests  on  the  habit  of  the  eye,  which  is 
best  acquired  as  the  result  of  reading.  In  attempting 
to  teach  reading  through  spelling,  the  effort  of  the 
pupil  in  trying  to  find  out  the  word  by  naming  the 
letters  that  compose  it  distracts  the  attention  from 
the  thought  intended  to  be  represented  by  it;  the 
mind  becomes  chiefly  absorbed  with  spelling  instead 
of  reading.  When  properly  taught,  reading  furnishes 
natural  facilities  for  teaching  spelling;  but  spelling 
does  not  furnish  a  suitable  means  for  teaching  read- 
ing. Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  usual  plans  for 
teaching  reading  by  the  ABC  method  compel  chil- 
dren to  do  that  for  which  their  minds  are  not  fitted, 
and  thus  cause  a  loss  of  power  by  restraining  them 
from  attending  to  the  thoughts  represented  by  the 
words,  and  to  other  things  which  would  greatly  pro- 
mote their  development.  The  results  are  that  a  love 
for  reading  is  not  enkindled,  good  readers  are  not 


WORD  METHOD. 


189 


produced.  The  few  cases  in  which  the  results  are  dif- 
ferent owe  both  the  love  for  reading  and  the  ability 
in  this  art  to  other  causes. 

u  The  pupils  learned  to  love  reading,  and  became 
able  to  read  well,  in  spite  of  poor  teaching  during 
their  first  lessons.  There  is  consolation  in  believing 
that  this  method,  which  produced  so  many  halting, 
stumbling  readers,  is  now  abandoned  by  all  good 
teachers  of  reading.  May  the  number  of  such  teach- 
ers be  greatly  increased. 

###### 

a  The  £  word  method'  begins  at  once  with  teaching 
the  words  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  by  which  chil- 
dren learn  to  distinguish  one  object  from  another,  and 
learn  the  names.  It  proposes  to  teach  words  as 
the  signs  of  things,  acts,  and  qualities,  etc.  It  does 
not  propose  to  teach  children  the  alphabet,  but  to 
leave  them  to  learn  this  after  they  have  become 
familiar  with  enough  words  to  commence  reading.'7 

The  Object  System  teaches  geography  very  inge- 
niously. The  pupil  begins  by  getting  into  his  mind 
the  idea  of  a  map.  This  is  by  no  means  so  simple  an 
idea  as  might  be  supposed,  as  witness  the  impossibil- 
ity almost  of  making  a  savage  understand  it.  The 
child  is  first  told  to  point  to  the  different  points  of  the 
compass ;  then  he  marks  them  down  on  a  blackboard ; 
next  he  draws  a  plan  of  the  room,  and  each  scholar 
attempts  to  locate  an  object  on  the  plan,  and  is  cor- 


190    THE  DANGrEIfcOTJS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

rected  by  the  school,  if  wrong.  Next  comes  a  plan 
of  tlie  district  or  town ;  then  a  globe  is  shown,  and 
the  idea  of  position  on  the  globe  given,  and  of  the 
outlines  of  different  countries.  Soon  the  pupil  learns 
to  draw  maps  on  the  board,  and  to  place  rivers,  bays, 
lakes,  and  oceans.  The  book-questions  now  to  be 
presented  will  not  be  on  purely  political  greography 
or  merely  arbitrary  lists  of  names.  The  child  is  taken 
on  imaginary  journeys  up  rivers,  over  mountains,  by 
railroads,  and  must  describe  from  the  lesson  he  has 
learned  the  different  productions,  the  animals,  the 
character  of  the  scenery,  the  vegetation,  and  the  occu- 
pations of  the  people.  Thus  geography  becomes  a 
kind  of  natural  science,  deeply  interesting  to  the 
pupil,  and  touching  his  imagination.  Certain  dry 
geographical  names  are  forever  after  associated  in  his 
mind  with  certain  animals  and  plants  and  a  peculiar 
scenery. 

Natural  history  is  also  taught  in  this  system,  but 
not  by  the  usual  dry  method.  The  teacher  brings  in 
a  potato,  for  instance,  and  carries  the  pupil  along  by 
questions  through  all  its  growth  and  development. 
Or  she  takes  flowers,  or  leaves,  or  seeds,  and  stamps 
the  most  important  phenomena  about  them  on  the 
scholar's  mind  by  an  objective  lesson.  Prints  of  ani- 
mals are  presented,  and  the  teacher  begins  at  the 
lowest  orders,  and  rises  up  in  regular  gradation, 
questioning  the  children  as  to  the  uses  and  purposes 


SCIENCE  TAUGHT  EARLY. 


191 


of  every  feature  and  limb.  They  work  out  their  own 
natural  philosophy.  They  observe,  and  then  reason ; 
and  what  they  learn  is  learned  in  philosophical  order, 
and  imprinted  by  their  own  efforts  on  their  memories. 
It  is  astonishing  how  much,  in  these  simple  methods, 
may  be  learned  in  natural  science  by  very  young  chil- 
dren; and  what  nutritive  but  simple  food  may  be 
supplied  to  their  minds  for  all  future  years. 

From  lessons  in  science  thus  given,  the  teacher 
rises  easily  to  lessons  of  morality  and  religion.  Noth- 
ing even  in  moral  teaching  impresses  a  child's  mind 
like  pictures,  stories,  or  parables,  or  some  form  of 
u  object-teaching."  The  modern  charts  and  books  are 
extremely  ingenious  in  giving  religious  lessons  through 
the  senses. 

The  beginning  of  the  higher  mathematics  may  be 
taught  children  perfectly  well  under  this  method. 
Straight  lines  and  angles  are  drawn,  or  constructed 
with  little  sticks,  and  named,  and  various  figures  thus 
formed.  With  blocks,  the  different  geometrical  figures 
are  constructed  and  named — all  being  finished  by  the 
pupils  themselves.  On  the  blackboard  certain  lines 
are  given,  and  with  them  "  inventive  drawing"  goes 
on  under  the  pupil's  own  suggestion. 

Weights  and  measures  are  learned  by  practical 
illustrations  with  real  objects,  and  are  thus  not  easily 
forgotten. 

Definition  is  very  agreeably  taught  by  the  teach- 


192    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

er's  producing  some  object,  say,  an  apple,  and  then 
making  each  scholar  describe  some  quality  of  it,  in 
taste,  color,  form,  or  material,  and  then  write  this 
word  on  the  board.  Very  difficult  adjectives,  such  as 
"  opaque,"  or  "  pungent/7  or  u  translucent,"  or  "  aro- 
matic," may  thus  be  learned,  besides  all  the  simpler, 
and  learned  permanently. 

The  old  bugbear  to  children,  spelling,  is  by  no 
means  so  terrible  under  these  methods.  The  teacher 
writes  two  initial  consonants,  say,  "  th,"  and  each 
scholar  makes  a  new  word  with  them,  and  it  is  written 
on  the  board ;  or  a  terminal  consonant  is  given,  or 
certain  combinations  of  letters  are  written  down — say, 
ough,  in  u  though,"  and  words  of  corresponding  sound 
must  be  written  underneath,  or  the  different  sounds 
of  each  vowel  must  be  illustrated  by  the  scholar,  and 
the  varying  sounds  of  consonants,  and  so  on  endlessly 
— spelling  becoming  a  perfect  amusement,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  training  the  pupil  in  many  delicate  shades 
of  sound,  and  in  analyzing  and  remembering  words. 

Grammar  is  conveyed,  not  by  that  farce  in  teach- 
ing, and  that  cross  to  all  children,  grammatical  rules, 
which  are,  in  fact,  the  expressions  of  the  final  fruit  of 
knowledge,  but  the  teacher  writes  incorrectly  on  the 
blackboard,  both  in  spelling,  punctuation,  and  gram- 
mar, and  the  children  must  correct  this ;  thus  learn- 
ing from  the  senses  and  usage,  instead  of  from 
abstract  rules. 


INVENTIVE  TEACHING. 


193 


Beading  is  given  as  nearly  as  possible  in  conversa- 
tional tones,  and  the  old  loud,  mechanical  sing-song  is 
forbidden. 

The  principle  most  insisted  on  in  all  this  system 
is,  that  the  child  should  teach  himself,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible; that  his  faculties  should  do  the  work,  and  not 
the  teacher's;  and  the  dull  and  slow  pupil  is  espe- 
cially to  be  led  on  and  encouraged.  But,  as  might 
be  supposed,  the  teacher's  task,  under  the  object 
method,  is  no  sinecure.  She  can  no  longer  slip  along 
the  groove  of  mechanical  teaching.  She  must  be 
wide-awake,  inventive,  constantly  on  the  qui  vive  to 
stir  up  her  pupils'  minds.  The  droning  over  lessons, 
and  letting  children  repeat,  parrot-like,  long  lists  of 
words,  is  not  for  her.  She  must  be  always  seeking 
out  some  new  thing  and  making  her  pupils  observe 
and  think  for  themselves.  Her  duty  is  a  hard  one. 
But  this  is  the  only  true  teaching ;  and  we  trust  that 
no  Primary  School  in  New  York  will  be  without  a 
well-trained  "Object-teacher." 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

THE  LITTLE  ITALIAN  ORG-AN-GrRINDERS. 

Among  the  various  rounds  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
making  in  the  poorest  quarters,  was  one  through  the 
Italian  quarter  of  the  "  Five  Points."  Here,  in  large 
tenement-houses,  were  packed  hundreds  of  poor  Ital- 
ians, mostly  engaged  in  carrying  through  the  city 
and  country  "  the  everlasting  hand-organ,"  or  selling 
statuettes.  In  the  same  room  I  would  find  monkeys, 
children,  men  and  women,  with  organs  and  plaster- 
casts,  all  huddled  together ;  but  the  women  contriving 
still,  in  the  crowded  rooms,  to  roll  their  dirty  maca- 
roni, and  all  talking  excitedly;  a  bedlam  of  sounds, 
and  a  combination  of  odors  from  garlic,  monkeys,  and 
most  dirty  human  persons.  They  were,  without  excep- 
tion, the  dirtiest  population  I  had  met  with.  The 
children  I  saw  every  day  on  the  streets,  following 
organs,  blackening  boots,  selling  flowers,  sweeping 
walks,  or  carrying  ponderous  harps  for  old  ruffians. 
So  degraded  was  their  type,  and  probably  so  mingled 
in  North  Italy  with  ancient  Celtic  blood,  that  their 
faces  could  hardly  be  distinguished  from  those  of  Irish 


LITTLE  HARPERS. 


195 


poor  children — an  occasional  liquid  dark  eye  only 
betraying  their  nationality. 

I  felt  convinced  that  something  could  be  done  for 
them.  Owing  to  their  ignorance  of  our  language  and 
their  street-trades,  they  never  attended  school,  and 
seldom  any  religious  service,  and  seemed  growing  up 
only  for  these  wretched  occupations.  Some  of  the 
little  ones  suffered  severely  from  being  indentured  by 
their  parents  in  Italy  to  a  u  Bureau 77  in  Paris,  which 
sent  them  out  over  the  world  with  their  u  padrone  f 
or  master,  usually  a  villainous-looking  individual  with 
an  enormous  harp.  The  lad  would  be  frequently  sent 
forth  by  his  padrone,  late  at  night,  to  excite  the  com- 
passion of  our  citizens,  and  play  the  harp.  I  used  to 
meet  these  boys  sometimes  on  winter-nights  half- 
frozen  and  stiff  with  cold. 

The  bright  eyes  among  these  children  showed  that 
there  was  mind  in  them  5  and  the  true  remedy  for 
their  low  estate  seemed  to  be  our  old  one,  a  School. 

Eev.  Dr.  Hawks,  at  this  time,  brought  to  my  atten- 
tion a  very  intelligent  Italian  gentleman  of  education, 
a  Protestant  and  patriot,  who  had  taken  refuge  here — 
Signor  A.  E.  Oerqua.  I  will  let  him  tell  his  own  story 
of  the  formation  and  success  of  the  School : 

THE  ITALIAN  SCHOOL— THE  FIVE  POINTS  SETTLEMENT. 

"  Coming  up  Chatham  Street  and  bending  your  course  to  the 
left,  you  turn  into  Baxter  Street,  a  dark,  damp,  muddy  street, 
forming  one  of  the  Five  Points.    On  each  side  of  the  way  are 


196    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


stores  of  old  clothes  and  heterogeneous  articles,  kept  by  Polish 
and  German  Jews.  Numerous  '  Unredeemed  Goods  for  Sale/  in 
the  shape  of  coats,  vests,  and  other  unmentionable  garments,  are 
suspended  on  wooden  stands  in  front  of  the  doorways.  There 
are  also  junk-stores,  rags,  bones,  and  old  metal  depots,  and  two 
Italian  groceries,  one  opposite  the  other.  Advancing  further, 
you  reach  the  centre  of  the  Five  Points,  synonymous  of  what- 
ever is  degraded  and  degrading,  loathsome  and  criminal.  Here 
Park  Street  runs  parallel  to  Chatham  Street  and  crosses  Baxter 
Street  at  right  angles,  thus  forming  four  of  the  Five  Points. 
The  fifth  point  is  formed  by  the  junction  of  Worth  Street,  lead- 
ing from  this  common  centre  in  a  northerly  direction.  This 
locality  is  very  dimly  lighted,  and  the  few  lamps  scattered 
around  only  add  to  the  repulsive  nature  of  the  place.  The 
pestiferous  exhalations  of  the  filthy  streets,  and  not  less  filthy 
shanties,  inhabited  by  the  lowest  and  most  disreputable  char- 
acters, are  disgusting  beyond  any  description.  Scattered  over 
this  neighborhood,  densely  settled  by  the  most  depraved  classes 
of  all  nationalities,  there  lived,  and  still  live,  some  fifteen  hun- 
dred of  the  poorest  class  of  Italians,  who  traditionally  cling  to 
that  locality.  They  are  generally  from  the  Ligurian  coasts, 
which  are  over-populated.  When  the  farms  require  working, 
the  inhabitants  usually  have  something  to  do  ;  but,  at  some  sea- 
sons, want  of  employment  compels  them  to  turn  elsewhere. 
Men,  women,  and  lads  went  in  ordinary  times  to  the  largest 
cities  of  Northern  Italy  for  temporary  occupation,  leaving  behind 
their  children  to  the  care  of  relatives  or  acquaintances,  who,  owing 
to  their  business,  inability,  or  carelessness,  neglected  in  most 
cases  to  exercise  over  tl^em  parental  duties,  When  the  hand- 
organ  came  into  vogue,  they  found  it  the  easiest  way  to  employ 
their  unoccupied  time.  Seeing,  afterward,  that  they  could  real- 
ize more  by  the  organ  than  by  the  shovel,  they  went  grinding  all 
the  year,  and  spread  all  over  Italy  at  first,  then  over  Europe  and 
America.  Some  of  the  children  left  were  sent  for,  while  others 
were  hired  out  to  those  who  proposed  a  grinding-tour  to  America. 
Those  who  arrived  here  first  having  done  well,  others  followed, 
and  the  tide  of  the  organ-grinding  emigration  set  in  on  a  gradual 
rise.  The  failure  of  the  Revolutionary  movements  of  1848  and 
1849  having  impoverished,  to  a  greater  or  smaller  extent,  the 


THE  FIVE  POINTS. 


197 


several  Italian  provinces,  gave  a  great  impetus  to  this  emigation, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  the  Five  Points  were  crowded  to  over- 
flowing. Accustomed  as  they  were  to  agricultural  pursuits  and 
out  of  the  reach  of  better  social  influences,  and  totally  ignorant 
of  the  language,  they  formed  a  separate  colony,  associating  only 
with  those  of  their  own  country  in  the  Five  Points.  Had  they 
displayed  the  vices  or  criminal  inclinations  which  prevail  to  a 
deplorable  extent  among  the  low  classes  of  other  nationalities, 
they  would  soon  have  been  brought  to  public  notice  and  taken 
care  of  by  our  benevolent  and  religious  societies  ;  but  they  can- 
not be  reproached  with  intoxication,  prostitution,  quarreling, 
stealing,  etc.  ;  and  thus,  escaping  the  unenviable  notoriety  of  the 
criminal,  they  fell  into  a  privacy  that  deprived  them  of  the 
advantages  of  American  benevolence  ;  and  there  is  no  instance  of 
any  visitor  having  ever  been  appointed  to  explore  this  fruitful 
field  of  operation. 

OPENING  OP  THE  SCHOOL. 

"  Early  in  December,  1855,  the  writer,  with  Mr.  Brace,  visited 
several  families.  Our  reception  was  not  such  as  to  promise  suc- 
cess, although,  considering  their  distrustful  and  suspicious  dis- 
position, consequent  upon  their  isolated  existence,  they  did  not 
treat  us  disrespectfully.  Having  thus  prepared  and  informed 
them,  on  the  evening  of  the  tenth  of  the  same  month  we  opened 
our  School  in  a  room  kindly  furnished  by  Rev.  Mr.  Pease,  on  the 
north  side  of  the  Five  Points'  square. 

"  On  the  first  night  of  our  operation  we  had  an  attendance  of 
ten  boys,  six  girls,  seven  young  men,  four  young  women,  two 
men,  and  one  woman  (thirty  in  all),  attracted,  as  may  be  evident 
by  the  age  of  the  attendants,  more  by  the  novelty  of  the  under- 
taking than  by  any  definite  purpose.  Of  that  number,  only  two 
could  read  a  little  in  Italian — not  one  in  English ;  hence  I  formed 
a  single  class  of  the  whole  in  the  alphabet. 

"  By  more  frequent  visiting,  the  attendance  was,  after  a  little 
while,  nearly  doubled  ;  but  toward  spring  it  dwindled  to  such  an 
insignificant  number,  that  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  close  the 
School. 

"  Instead  of  being  deterred  by  this  discouraging  feature,  we 
determined  to  examine  the  field  more  carefully,  and  endeavor  to 


198    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


discover  the  immediate  cause  of  the  unexpected  check  our  hopes 
had  experienced.  Proper  exertions  in  visiting,  and  cautious  and 
timely  investigations,  soon  brought  out  the  fact  that  some  absurd 
rumors  had  been  circulated  among  them  to  the  effect  that  our 
purpose  was  to  turn  them  away  from  their  own  church,  alleging, 
as  conclusive  evidence,  that  our  school-room  was  used  for  Sun- 
day religious  meetings.  These  mischievous  insinuations  called 
for  the  utmost  prudent  activity  on  our  part,  for,  although  these 
people  are  not  fanatics  in  religion,  they,  at  that  time,  still  clung 
with  tenacity  to  the  infallibility  of  their  priest.  I  say  at  that 
time,  because  the  unnatural  and  unchristian  attitude  assumed 
since  by  their  spiritual  guides  toward  Italy  has  forced  even  the 
uneducated  class  into  a  certain  use  of  comparative  rational  free- 
dom, and,  beyond  the  spiritual,  they  will  not  follow  their  relig- 
ious leaders.  Meeting  with  only  partial  success  by  persuasion, 
I  then  promised  shoes  and  clothing  to  pupils  who  would  attend 
for  three  months  consecutively ;  and  having  thus  prepared  the 
way,  and  without  ever  failing  to  visit  the  most  unapproachable, 
it  was  deemed  advisable  to  reopen  the  School  in  November,  1856. 
The  attendance  increased  by  some  thirty,  with  a  minor  sprink- 
ling of  men  and  women.  Shoes  and  clothes  were  distributed  in 
March,  but  the  number  soon  after  commenced  diminishing,  until 
June,  1857,  when  the  School,  as  in  the  previous  year,  had  to  be 
closed  for  a  second  time.  Two  great  advantages  had,  however, 
been  developed.  Their  ready  acceptance  of  shoes  and  clothes 
given  and  distributed  in  our  room  was  a  powerful  argument  in 
my  hands  to  answer  their  objection  to  the  room ;  and  among  the 
floating  attendance  I  had  noticed  a  score  or  so  of  regular  pupils 
upon  whom  I  concentrated  my  best  attention  and  every  possible 
encouragement,  in  the  conviction  that  the  result  of  my  efforts  in 
that  direction  would  prove  efficacious  to  attract  others.  And,  in 
fact,  when  the  improvement  of  these  twenty  attendants  became 
known,  it  was  found  comparatively  easy  to  persuade  others  to 
school. 

"  It  had  now  become  evident  to  me  that,  with  adequate  exer- 
tions and  inducements,  the  School  could  be  established  on  a  per 
manent  and  working  order  ;  and  on  the  following  September  we 
recommenced  operations  with  better  promise.  But  a  narrow- 
minded  opposition  partially  marred  our  success  this  year.  An 


OPPOSITION  OP  PRIESTS. 


199 


Italian  priest,  called  Rebiccio,  from  the  confessional  and  from  the 
pulpit,  flung  ferocious  anathemas  at  all  who  permitted  their 
children  to  attend  our  School.  He  even  went  from  house  to 
house  to  use  his  influence  in  the  same  direction.  I  sent  a  depu- 
tation of  my  oldest  scholars  to  remonstrate  with  him  and  correct 
his  misapprehensions  by  assuring  him  that  we  had  no  sectarian 
teachings.  These  same  boys  I  took  with  me  in  visiting  a  num- 
ber of  the  most  superstitious  families,  and  for  the  same  purpose, 
but  in  both  cases  of  no  avail ;  only,  instead  of  justifying  myself, 
I  found  that  these  boys  were  equally  suspected  of  complicity, 
some  even  assuming  that  they  had  already  been  converted.  I 
felt  disheartened,  not  because  I  did  not  hope  to  overcome  all 
obstacles  by  patience,  prudence,  and  perseverance,  but  because  I 
could  scarcely  realize  the  actual  occurrence  of  such  un  unflinch- 
ing, unprincipled,  and  unjust  persecution,  or,  what  was  still 
worse,  of  such  credulous  stupidity  as  was  shown  by  the  very 
people  we  intended  to  elevate. 

Prompted  by  these  feelings,  I  then  wrote  a  letter  to  that 
worthy  priest,  inviting  him  to  assist  me  in  teaching,  to 
take  my  place,  to  teach  these  poor  children  himself — in 
short,  to  do  what  he  pleased,  provided  they  were  furnished 
with  proper  means  to  better  their  condition.  The  letter 
was  couched  in  the  most  unexceptionable  terms,  and  closed 
by  entreating  him  to  desist  from  his  unjust  attacks,  and  not  to 
compel  me  to  appeal  to  the  public  through  the  daily  press,  the 
last  resort  in  this  free  country.  Discouraged  by  the  suspicious 
reception  I  met  with  from  the  majority  of  these  people,  and  by 
the  fruitless  result  of  my  aforesaid  letter,  I  was  then  preparing 
a  statement  for  the  newspapers,  when  the  whole  opposition 
scheme  exploded.  Under  the  false  pretext  that  he  was  going  to 
hire  a  building  to  open  a  school  for  these  children,  in  connection 
with  a  church,  which  he  proposed  also  to  build  for  them,  this 
worthy  priest  had  collected  considerable  money  in  the  Five 
Points,  when  all  at  once  he  disappeared,  and  it  was  only  after 
months  that  he  was  heard  of  in  affluent  circumstances  in  Italy. 
A  natural  and  desirable  reaction  then  took  place  among  our 
people,  and  since  then  the  School  has  been  yearly  in  operation 
for  eleven  months,  and  with  gradual  prosperity.  In  June,  1866, 
desiring  to  extend  our  work  and  absorb  all  children  exposed  to 


200    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


the  bad  influences  and  examples  of  the  streets  that  attended  no 
day-school,  we  added  also  successfully  a  day-session,  so  that  now, 
with  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight  (228)  names  on  our  books 
since  October  1,  1867,  we  have  a  daily  average  of  sixty -five  (65), 
and  one  hundred  and  eighty-six  (186)  for  day  and  evening  ses- 
sions respectively.  By  these  figures  it  will  be  seen  that,  while 
in  other  schools  the  proportion  of  the  average  to  the  names 
entered  is,  at  the  best,  seventy-five  per  cent.,  nearly  all  our  pupils 
on  the  roll-book  attend  regularly  one  of  the  two,  and  several 
both  sessions.  The  attendants  vary  from  five  to  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  averaging  about  nine  and  a  half.  A  little  less  than 
one-half  of  the  whole  are  females. 

MENTAL  IMPROVEMENT. 

"  Whoever  has  not  associated  with  this  class  of  Italians  before 
our  School  was  opened  cannot  form  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
result  attained  both  in  moral  and  mental  improvement.  Out  of 
the  whole  number  entered  since  the  commencement  of  opera- 
tions, say,  in  round  numbers,  eight  hundred  and  fifty  (850),  not 
over  forty  had  a  little  and  imperfect  knowledge  of  reading  the 
Italian,  and  only  about  ten  had  a  slight  acquaintance  with  the 
English.  My  first  endeavors  were  directed  to  induce  them  to 
attend  day-schools,  and  during  the  first  three  years  over  twenty 
became  pupils  of  Public  Schools.  Later  on,  this  number  received 
accessions,  amounting  at  one  time  to  about  fifty. 

"  Our  course  of  study  comprises  the  gradual  series  of  English 
reading,  spelling,  and  writing  adopted  in  most  of  the  Public 
Schools  ;  geography,  arithmetic,  history,  and  grammar.  The  class 
in  the  last  two  branches  this  year  is  very  small,  as  the  students 
thereof,  being  mostly  adults,  cannot  well  attend  regularly. 

"  Some  twelve  years  ago,  and  for  a  time  after,  there  were 
only  two  among  them  who  had  some  knowledge  of  letters,  and 
on  them  the  whole  colony  had  to  depend  for  writing  and  reading 
letters  in  Italian  and  interpreting  in  English,  on  payment  of 
charges  varying  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  cents.  On  becoming 
acquainted  with  this  fact,  I  resolved  upon  teaching  also  the  Italian 
to  the  most  advanced  in  the  English,  which  addition  met  with 
general  favor,  for,  a  year  after,  the  pupils  who  could  and  did 
gratuitously  perform  the  offices  of  the  two  literati  increased  to 


HAPPY  CHANGES. 


201 


such,  an  extent  that  one  was  usually  found  within  each  family 
or  a  circle  of  relatives.  The  time  being  limited,  these  studies 
are,  of  course,  taught  alternately,  and  the  progress  therein  is 
not  as  speedy  as  would  be  desirable  ;  but,  everything  considered, 
they  show  remarkable  intelligence,  aptitude,  and  willingness  to 
learn.  I  might  quote  from  reports  of  the  principal  press  of  this 
city  on  our  last  examination ;  but,  as  the  School  is  free  and 
always  open  to  visitors,  I  will  content  myself  with  inviting  our 
friends  to  look  into  the  subject  for  themselves. 

How  gratifying  when  I  enter  the  School  to  see  the  oldest  of 
the  attendants,  but  a  few  years  ago  illiterate  and  totally  ignorant 
of  everything  around  them,  reading  papers,  and  quoting,  dis- 
criminating, and  discussing  the  topics  of  the  day,  and  forming  a 
more  or  less  correct  idea  of  the  state  of  things  in  the  land  of 
their  adoption  and  in  other  parts  of  the  world !  Gratifying, 
indeed,  to  see  these  children,  but  a  few  years  ago  without  any 
idea  of  patriotism,  without  any  other  principle  to  guide  their 
judgment  and  actions  than  the  natural  impulses  of  a  degraded 
selfishness,  exchange  intelligent  views  upon  the  moral  standing 
and  tendency  of  the  political  parties  in  this  and  in  their  native 
country !  Many  times  I  have  been  astonished  at  the  extensive 
information  and  sound  opinions  they  display  in  commenting 
upon  contemporaneous  events.  The 

MORAL  IMPROVEMENT. 

which  has  been  accomplished  is  still  more  extensive  and  sensi- 
ble. At  first  sight  the  visitor  is  enabled  to  draw  a  line  between 
old  and  new  pupils  by  noticing  the  intelligent  and  clean  appear- 
ance, quick  perception,  and  admirable  behavior  of  the  former, 
and  the  dull,  downcast,  rough,  and  thoughtless  countenances  of 
the  latter.  It  is  surprising  that  all  these  children  were  accus- 
tomed to  wash  their  faces  only  on  Sundays,  and  it  takes  even 
now  some  time  to  induce  them  to  do  it  daily.  Still,  it  is  undenia- 
ble that,  as  a  class,  they  possess  an  earnest  appreciation  of  good 
habits,  only  it  is,  to  say  so,  an  abstract  idea  as  yet  with  them, 
and  needs  development. 

"  When  the  School  opened,  and  for  some  time  after,  the  attend- 
ance was  generally  composed  of  organ-grinders  and  beggars, 


202    THE  DATOEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


which  vocations  they  indifferently  acknowledged  to  follow,  when- 
ever asked,  by  analogous  gestures.  To  redeem  them  from  those 
ignoble  vocations  was,  in  my  opinion,  of  paramount  importance, 
and  to  that  end  I  devoted  part  of  my  time  in  visiting  their  pa- 
rents, to  impress  them  with  a  sense  of  self-respect  and  human 
dignity,  and  talk  them  into  the  apprenticing  into  trades  their 
offspring.  As,  however,  these  boys  brought  home  from  fifty 
cents  to  a  dollar  per  day,  it  was  quite  a  difficult  task  to  persuade 
them  to  give  up  this  source  of  Income  for  comparatively  nomi- 
nal wages.  With  guardians  and  relatives  my  efforts  remained 
entirely  fruitless.  I  then  concluded  that  if  we  could  show  them 
practically  that  trades  in  the  end  would  pay  better,  it  would 
become  easy  to  accomplish  our  purpose.  I  concentrated,  there- 
fore, my  exertions  on  three  families,  the  most  approachable,  and 
succeeded.  One  consented  to  place  a  boy  of  fourteen  in  the 
Printing  Department  of  the  American  Tract  Society ;  another 
soon  followed  in  the  same  line ;  the  third,  a  boy  of  thirteen, 
entered  a  machine-shop.  All  three  did  very  well,  and  at  the 
end  of  two  years  they  were  earning  five  and  six  dollars  per  week. 
Their  success  caused  a  moral  revolution,  and  had  I  been  able  to 
place  all,  not  one  would  at  this  day  be  blacking  boots,  which 
many  do  for  want  of  better  employment.  It  is  a  fact  that 
speaks  very  highly  of  these  Italians,  that  in  every  instance, 
whenever  one  has  been  employed,  Italians  are  preferred.  I  have 
seen  certificates  given  by  manufacturers  to  some  of  them, 
speaking  enthusiastically  of  their  honesty,  industry,  and  faith- 
fulness. There  are  also  instances  of  extraordinary  interest 
taken  by  employers  in  their  behalf,  and  in  no  case  has  any  ever 
been  discharged  for  any  other  reason  than  for  want  of  work.  A 
large  number  of  girls  also  find  occupation  in  artificial  flowers 
and  confectionery.  All  now  look  with  scorn  upon  their  former 
vocations,  and  the  term  '  pianist '  is  ironically  applied  to  newly- 
landed  organ-grinders.  Now  it  is  a  fact  that  can  stand  the 
strictest  scrutiny,  that  all  those  who  follow  decent  vocations  or 
attend  day-schools,  public  or  otherwise,  either  are  or  have  been 
our  regular  attendants  for  years  and  that  all  grinders,  begggars, 
and  vagrants,  in  general,  are  not  and  have  not,  attended  at  all,  or 
at  most  a  few  weeks,  attracted  only  by  the  hope  of  getting  shoes 
or  clothes. 


THE  GRADUATES. 


203 


"Without  mentioning  the  many  present  pupils  who  are 
engaged  in  honorable  pursuits,  I  can  readily  name  about  fifty 
old  attendants  who  have  left  school,  now  employed  in  this  or 
other  States  as  printers,  confectioners,  jewelers,  shoemakers, 
machinists,  carpenters,  waiters,  carvers,  and  farm-hands.  To 
these  must  be  added  two  who  keep  and  own  a  neat  confectionery 
and  ice-cream  saloon  in  Grand  Street ;  a  shoemaker  in  business 
for  himself ;  another,  one  of  the  first  three  above-mentioned,  a 
foreman  in  the  very  machine-shop  in  which  he  served  as  an 
apprentice ;  one  a  patented  machinist  in  a  steam  chocolate  manu- 
factory ;  and,  lastly,  one  who  for  the  last  three  years  has  been 
foreman  in  a  wholesale  confectionery.  I  omit  to  mention  those 
who  have  gone  back  to  Italy  and  are  doing  well.  As  a  rule,  they 
all  remember  with  gratitude  their  friends,  to  whose  efforts  and 
liberality  they  acknowledge  they  owe  their  present  position. 
From  every  State  in  which  they  settle  we  receive  now  and  then 
encouraging  news  from  some  boy ;  and  not  long  ago  we  heard, 
for  the  second  time,  from  a  boy  in  Italy,  who,  after  having  men- 
tioned that  he  was  studying  Latin,  etc.,  gives  vent  to  his  feelings 
by  conveying  his  most  hearty  thanks  to  all  the  teachers,  men- 
tioning them  one  by  one— to  Mr.  Brace,  to  Mr.  Macy,  and,  not 
remembering  the  name  of  our  good  friend,  John  C.  Havemeyer, 
Esq.,  he  adds,  "  also  to  that  kind  gentleman  who  has  an  office  at 
No.  175  Pearl  Street."  His  letter  is  very  touching,  and  reveals 
noble  feeling  and  mind. 

"  Nor  are  parents  less  grateful  and  ready  to  acknowledge  the 
good  of  American  benevolence.  I  was  conversing  one  evening 
with  a  widow  woman,  while  her  boy  was  writing  to  her  father 
in  Italy,  and  called  her  attention  to  the  advantage  her  son  had 
derived  from  our  School,  adding  that  I  still  remembered  how 
indifferently  she  received  at  first  my  advices.  She  felt  a  little 
mortified  and  replied :  '  Caro  Maestro  (Dear  Teacher),  having 
never  received  any  good  from  anybody,  but  plenty  of  harm,  we 
could  not  believe  that  all  at  once  we  had  become  worthy  of  so 
much  kindness.  We  used  to  have  hard  treatment  at  the  hand 
of  everybody,  had  no  friends ;  even  our  countrymen  in  better 
circumstances  despised  us,  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  we  had 
made  up  our  mind  that  we  would  find  charity  only  in  the  other 
world.' 


204    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


VISITING. 

"  I  will  not  attempt  to  give  an  idea  of  the  difficulty  attending 
visiting  in  the  Five  Points,  nor  can  I  dwell  at  length  on  the 
extensive  suffering  and  wretchedness  that  have  fallen  under  my 
observation.  Notwithstanding  my  comparative  familiarity  with 
those  places,  I  cannot  dispense  yet  with  a  guide  and  a  light, 
and,  in  many  instances,  two  of  both.  The  rickety  shanties, 
with  crumbling  stairs  and  broken  steps,  undergo  as  many  changes 
in  the  interior  as  may  be  suggested  by  the  wants  of  the  successive 
inmates.  The  looms  have  been  partitioned  and  sub-partitioned 
a  good  number  of  times,  and  now  and  then  I  have  found  even 
part  of  the  hall,  and  the  whole  thereof  on  top  floors,  taken  in 
by  new  partitions.  Small  wooden  rear  buildings  are  mostly 
tenanted  entirely  by  Italians,  but  in  large  tenement-houses  there 
is  generally  found  a  good  Irish  or  Jewish  mingling.  Visiting, 
in  the  latter  case,  is  often  attended  by  most  unpleasant  occur- 
rences, owing  to  intoxicated  and  troublesome  persons  that  are 
usually  found  in  the  stairs  and  halls.  But  to  relate  some  of  my 
experience : 

tf  On  Christmas-day  (1866)  a  woman  with  five  children — the 
oldest  three  our  pupils — coming  from  church,  fell,  breaking  her 
arm  and  giving  premature  birth  to  a  sixth.  Hearing  of  this  sad 
*  case,  I  took  a  few  yards  of  red  flannel  and  went  to  see  her.  I 
found  the  poor  woman  in  the  deepest  agony  and  almost  frantic 
from  suffering.  Her  husband  kept  a  fruit-stand  in  Nassau 
Street,  but  this  accident,  as  she  expressed  it,  had  entirely  stupi- 
fied  him,  and  she  suffered  to  a  great  extent,  also,  morally,  from 
the  hopeless  condition  of  her  young  family.  The  stove  was  as 
warm  (or  cold)  as  every  piece  of  furniture  in  the  room,  and  the 
poor  patient  and  the  two  smallest  children  had  to  manage 
to  keep  warm  by  lying  on  the  same  bed,  with  a  pile  of  old 
clothes  and  carpets  over  them.  Presently,  however,  the  three 
elder  children  came  in,  half-frozen  and  barefooted,  scarcely  able 
to  talk,  and  discharged  near  the  stove  the  contents  of  their 
aprons  and  bags,  the  result  of  their  coal-picking  tour.  Leaving 
to  their  father  the  care  of  reviving  the  fire,  they,  as  of  a  common 
consent,  started  for  a  closet,  and  drawing  out  a  good-sized  tin 
pan  full  of  boiled  corn-meal,  commenced  a  furious  onslaught 
thereon.    The  outer  room  measured  some  twelve  by  fourteen 


CRUELTY. 


205 


feet,  and  had  no  beds,  but  its  floor  afforded  sleeping  accommoda- 
tions to  the  five  children.  The  inner  room  was  scarcely  large 
enough  to  admit  a  middle-sized  bedstead  used  by  the  parents. 
When  I  left,  the  young  ones  had  taken  their  places  for  the  night, 
and  the  man,  having  made  a  good  fire,  proceeded  to  assort  a 
barrel  of  apples,  and  his  wife  said  it  was  the  fourth  time  '  that 
stupid  man  had  gone  through  the  same  process  without  having  done 
anything.' 

"  Among  guardians,  especially,  the  custom  was  prevalent  of 
fixing  the  amount  the  boy  or  girl  had  to  bring  home  in  the  even- 
ing. But  not  seldom  fathers  were  prompted  by  avarice  to  act 
still  more  cruelly  against  their  own  offspring,  and  while  the  former 
punished  the  shortcomings  of  their  wards  by  furnishing  them 
with  meals  of  microscopic  proportions,  the  latter,  on  the  pre- 
sumption, I  suppose,  of  paternal  right,  went  so  far  as  to  whip 
and  even  expel  from  home  the  son  or  sons  who  failed  to  come 
up  to  their  greedy  expectations.  At  present,  however,  such 
cases  are  almost  unknown,  owing  to  the  sense  of  independence 
felt  by  the  growing  generation  and  to  our  influence  on  the  pa- 
rents. But  as  late  as  three  years  ago  I  had  observed  that  a  boy 
of  twelve,  who  was  very  anxious  to  learn,  now  and  then  was 
absent.  One  evening  I  called  on  him  for  explanations,  and  he 
related  tha  he  was  '  taxed '  for  eighty  cents  a  day,  and  every 
cent  short  of  that  amount  was  balanced  by  a  proportionate  dose 
of  cowhiding  on  his  bare  body.  He  entreated  me  most  earnestly 
not  to  "Say  a  word  to  his  father  on  the  subject,  otherwise  he  would 
fare  still  worse.  Whenever,  therefore,  he  failed  to  earn  the 
eighty  cents  by  his  boot-blacking  vocation,  he  would  not  go  home. 
This  unnatural  father  did  not  stop  here ;  he  did  not  care  in  the 
least  how  long  his  son  would  remain  out  sleeping  under  market- 
stands  and  in  newspaper  rooms,  but  he  insisted  on  the  boy  pay- 
ing over  to  him,  when  he  would  return,  at  the  rate  of  eighty 
cents  per  day  for  all  the  time  of  his  absence,  without  any  allow- 
ance for  food,  etc. 

"  The  case  was  really  heart-rending,  especially  as  the  boy  was 
developing  fine  moral  and  intellectual  qualities,  and  had  to  be 
treated  With  uncommon  prudence.  At  first  I  told  the  boy  to  call 
on  me  for  whatever  he  was  short,  and  he  did  so  on  two  occasions  ; 
but  somehow  or  other  the  transaction  was  reported  to  the  father, 


206    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


who,  rather  than  desist  from  his  pretension,  as  any  other  man 
would  certainly  have  done,  increased  the  tax  to  one  dollar,  with 
the  remark  that  '  it  would  make  no  difference  to  the  teacher,  twenty 
cents,  more  or  less.'  The  very  same  night  this  happened,  seeing 
the  impossibility  of  curing  this  man  in  any  other  way,  I  paid 
him  a  visit,  which  seemed  to  have  surprised  him  to  a  great 
extent.  I  spoke  to  him  calmly  but  determinedly,  as  I  never  had 
occasion  to  do  before,  but  without  eliciting  any  answer,  and  I 
left  him  with  the  assurance  that  if  he  did  not  desist  at  once  from 
the  vile  abuse  of  parental  authority  I  would  have  him  arrested. 
After  a  few  days  he  moved  to  Laurens  street,  and  in  about  six 
months  from  this  occurrence  returned,  with  the  whole  family,  to 
Italy.  I  never  could  learn  anything  afterward  concerning  his 
interesting  son. 

"  The  filth  prevalent  in  some  of  their  abodes  is  really  appall- 
ing, and  in  some  cases  incredible.    In  Baxter  Street  there 

is  a  bedroom,  nine  by  twelve  feet,  occupied  by  four  children  and 
their  parents.  The  door,  hindered  by  the  bed  behind  it,  opens 
scarcely  enough  to  give  admittance  to  a  person  of  ordinary  size. 
At  the  foot  of  the  bed  there  is,  and  was,  and  will  be  as  long  as 
they  stay  therein,  a  red-hot  stove,  between  which  and  the  window 
stands  an  old  chest ;  opposite  the  stove  a  table.  The  fetid  air 
inside  I  would  have  thought  to  be  beyond  human  endurance. 
The  woman,  at  my  request,  opened  the  window,  remarking 
'  that  she  did  not  see  the  use  of  burning  coal  inside,  if  the  freez- 
ing air  was  to  be  permitted  to  come  in  freely/  The  children 
sleep  on  the  floor ;  that  is  to  say,  one  nearly  under  the  bed, 
another  under  the  table,  a  third  by  the  stove,  and  the  fourth  is 
at  liberty  to  roll  over  any  of  her  sisters.  I  could  not  help 
noticing  an  old  greasy  piece  of  print,  of  no  distinguishable  color, 
hanging  around  the  bed,  and  performing,  as  I  learned  with 
satisfaction,  the  function  of  a  curtain  to  keep  out  of  view  its 
occupants. 

"  During  the  last  ten  years  some  fifteen  of  our  girls,  and 
nearly  as  many  boys,  married — mostly,  I  ought  to  say,  intermar- 
ried— and  as  the  greater  portion  of  them  have  children,  say  from 
four  to  eight  years  of  age,  in  our  school,  I  visit  also  occasion- 
ally among  them,  the  new  generation.  And  how  different  in 
their  habits  of  cleanliness !    Floors,  walls,  ceiling,  windows, 


BILLIARD-ROOMS. 


207 


everything  faultlessly  clean,  their  persons  neat,  so  that  their 
rooms  are  really  an  oasis  in  that  desert  called  tenement-houses  ; 
and  the  cordial  civility  they  extend  to  me  carries  still  farther 
the  comparison  by  making  me  realize  in  their  apartments, 
after  a  visiting  tour  at  the  Five  Points,  all  the  satisfaction  the 
traveler  derives  by  the  fertile  spot  after  a  fatiguing  journey 
across  the  burning  sand. 

"  I  will  omit  many  sad  scenes  witnessed  at  the  death-bed  of 
several  of  our  pupils,  it  being  my  aim  to  dwell  only  on  such 
facts  as  may  convey  an  idea  of  the  nature  of  the  difficulties  we 
had  to  overcome.  But  the  monotonous  scenes  of  suffering  under 
its  various  forms  are,  however,  succeeded  now  and  then  by  others 
peculiarly  exciting. 

"  Often,  of  my  own  choice,  but  sometimes  entreated  by  the 
pupils'  parents,  I  paid  visits  to  billiard-rooms.  These  are  placed 
in  the  back-room  of  groceries,  of  which  there  are  three  in  that 
neighborhood,  and  have,  therefore,  communication  with  the 
yard.  Whenever  I  deemed  it  necessary  to  go  on  such  errands,  I 
had  to  organize  previously  an  expedition  of  ten  or  twelve  of  our 
oldest  scholars,  who,  in  accordance  with  my  instructions,  would 
at  a  signal  prevent  all  means  of  egress  from  windows  and  doors. 
I  would  then  go  in  from  the  front,  and  a  wild  rush  for  the  rear 
would  ensue  ;  but,  finding  themselves  surrounded,  all  the  boys 
I  was  looking  for,  had  no  other  choice  but  to  follow  us  to  school, 
escorted  as  deserters.  Now,  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
ninety-nine  out  of  one  hundred  of  billiard-keepers  in  New  York 
would  not  allow  such  proceedings  against  their  interests,  for  our 
descents  did  not  particularly  improve  their  profits.  Still,  these 
Italian  grocers  not  only  countenanced  and  aided  my  endeavors, 
but  gave  me  also  all  the  information  I  previously  demanded. 
Little  by  little,  by  repeated  expeditions  and  an  occasional  peep- 
ing in  these  places  before  going  to  school,  I  succeeded  in  nearly 
breaking  up  their  vicious  habits  in  this  respect,  and  it  is  only  a 
rare  occurrence  that  one  of  our  boys  on  Saturday  nights  will  go 
in  to  look  on  a  game.  In  corroboration  of  which  success  I  may 
mention  that  early  last  winter  (1867),  one  Saturday  evening,  the 
police  made  a  regular  and  truly  formidable  descent  on  these 
billiard-saloons,  arresting,  among  others,  in  all  twenty-seven 
Italians,  I  believe,  of  whom  eleven  were  boys  from  seven  to  fif- 


208   THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


teen.  Next  evening  I  had  an  application  to  interfere  for  their 
release,  as  it  is  nsual  for  me  to  do  whenever  circumstances  war- 
rant it,  and  in  looking  into  the  subject  carefully  I  found  that  of 
them  only  two — namely,  the  youngest  and  the  oldest — belonged 
to  our  school,  and  that  both  had  gone  to  buy  groceries,  and, 
while  the  grocer  was  weighing  and  wrapping  the  provisions, 
they  had  walked  to  the  door  between  the  store  and  the  saloon  to 
look  in,  and  were  under  that  circumstance  arrested.  Upon  my 
conviction  that  such  was  really  the  case,  I  applied  for  and 
obtained  their  discharge.  The  other  boys  mostly  belonged 
to  families  newly  arrived  from  Italy  and  directed  for  California, 
to  which  State  these  people  generally  move  if  unable  to  make  a 
living  in  New  York. 

"  Now  I  will  only  add  that  the  Maestro  (teacher)  at  the  Five 
Points  has  become  an  indispensable  personage  among  them. 
He  is  assumed  to  be  a  lawyer,  medical  doctor,  theologian,  astron- 
omer, banker — everything  as  well  as  a  teacher.  A  boy  is  arrested 
for  throwing  stones  in  the  street ;  the  Maestro  is  applied  to  and 
the  boy  is  released.  One  has  fifty  dollars  to  deposit ;  the  Maes- 
tro is  consulted  as  to  the  soundness  of  the  savings-banks- -and 
so  on.  But,  to  better  appreciate  their  feelings  on  this  subject,  it 
must  be  known  that  these  poor  foreigners  have  for  a  long  while 
been  victimized  by  the  grossest  impositions.  I  have  heard  of  as 
much  as  one  thousand  dollars  lost  by  one  family,  through  the 
sharp  practice  of  a  man  (an  Italian)  who,  taking  advantage  of 
their  ignorance  of  the  English,  and  of  their  confidence,  depos- 
ited and  drew  in  his  name  the  money  which  was  intended  as 
part  payment  for  a  farm  they  had  bought  in  Massachusetts,  and 
gave  them  to  understand  that  the  bank  had  failed.  And  this  is 
one  of  the  many  cases  they  had  related  to  me  on  the  subject. 
Nor  less  shameful  imposition  they  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the 
"  shysters  "  whenever  some  juvenile  delinquent  was  arrested  for 
trifles.  They  had  to  pay  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  dollars,  and, 
what  was  worse,  often  without  obtaining  their  release.  In  order 
to  explain  the  process  by  which  poor  people  possess  such  cash 
amounts,  I  must  say  that  in  extraordinary  circumstances  they 
help  each  other  with  the  most  disinterested  and  prompt  liberal- 


GRATITUDE. 


209 


lenders,  who,  being  unknown  to  the  bank,  are  refused  payment. 
The  Maestro  then,  of  course,  is  applied  to,  and  for  the  first  two 
or  three  cases  I  found  it  hard  to  make  them  understand  that  I 
did  not  do  it  for  money.  They  would  insist  on  my  receiving 
something  for  my  trouble  in  procuring  payment  by  the  drawees, 
and  one,  especially,  on  having  paid  a  draft  of  one  hundred  and 
sixty  dollars  gold,  followed  me  for  a  block,  with  a  coin  piece  in 
his  hand,  insisting  that  I  should  take  it.  '  My  dear  man,  keep 
your  money/  I  would  say  ;  '  I  am  very  glad  to  have  been  able  to 
render  you  this  service/  '  No,  Maestro,  no.  Well,  take  at  least 
these  five  dollars '  (gold).  That  at  least  struck  me  that  he  must 
have  been  laboring  under  the  impression  that  my  services  were 
worth  considerably  more,  and  I  addressed  him  in  that  sense.  In 
answer,  he  explained  that  an  Italian,  who  has  gone  away  from 
New  York,  charged  him  and  others  ten  per  cent,  for  cashing 
drafts  to  order.  " 

"  In  conclusion,  the  Maestro  is  called  uj>on  for  every  emer- 
gency. Questions  undecided  between  two  or  more  dissentient 
parties  are  referred  to  my  arbitration.  Family  quarrels  are 
submitted  to  my  adjustment.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that 
the  good  which  could  be  effected  by  thus  visiting  among  this 
class  is  immense — in  fact,  far  beyond  the  expectation  of  those 
who  might  take  as  a  basis  of  comparison  the  result  of  visiting 
among  the  low  classes  of  other  nationalities. 

OUR  FRIENDS. 

"  As  the  work  was  done  in  a  most  quiet  way,  our  patrons 
were  at  first  few,  and  for  six  years  all  Americans.  After  that 
period,  the  few  distinguished  Italians  in  this  city  were  applied 
to  with  favorable  result.  But  it  was  not  until  the  end  of  1863 
that  their  co-operation  proved  efficient,  and  relieved  considerably 
the  Children's  Aid  Society  of  the  pecuniary  burden.  Previous 
to  that  time,  five  or  six  of  them,  headed  by  the  Italian  Consul- 
General,  Signor  Anfora,  visited  us,  to  look  into  the  working  of 
the  School,  and,  becoming  satisfied  that  a  great  good  was  being 
accomplished,  later  on,  at  the  invitation  of  the  Trustees  of  the 
Society,  organized  themselves  into  a  Co-operative  Sub-  Committee f 
consisting  of  Prof.  V.  Botta,  President ;  E.  P.  Fabbri,  Treas- 
urer ;  G.  Albinola  and  V.  Fabbricotti,  Esqs.,  and  Dr.  G.  Cecarini, 


210    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


The  Treasurer,  Signor  Fabbri,  with,  that  kind  and  unassuming 
liberality  for  which  he  is  distinguished,  to  his  annual  subscrip- 
tion has  added  fifty  tons  of  coal  to  the  most  deserving,  thus 
relieving  their  sufferings  to  a  great  extent,  and  establishing  a 
powerful  inducement  for  indifferent  parents.  The  Committee 
also  reported  to  the  Italian  Government  what  was  taking  place 
for  the  advantage  of  its  destitute  and  ignorant  subjects  in  this 
city,  and  obtained  some  subsidy  and  other  encouragement  from 
that  quarter.  At  the  head  of  the  Ministerial  Department  for 
Foreign  Affairs  was,  at  that  period,  Cav.  M.  Cerruti,  a  gentleman 
of  learning  and  most  enlightened  views,  who  has  done  much  in 
Italy  to  popularize  public  instruction  as  the  speediest  and  surest 
means  of  promoting  the  prosperity  of  the  nation.  This  gentle- 
man having  lately  been  appointed  Minister  Plenipotentiary  from 
his  to  this  country,  visited,  last  October,  our  School,  and  met 
with  the  hearty  reception  he  deserves  as  one  of  our  patrons. 
His  visit  elicited  the  following  ietter  from  the  distinguished 
Italian  statesman  to  Rev.  C.  L.  Brace,  Secretary  of  the  Children's 
Aid  Society  : —  * 

" '  Clarendon  Hotel,  October  29,  1867. 

" f  Dear  Sir — I  beg  leave  to  be  allowed  to  express,  in  behalf 
of  the  Italian  Government  and  nation  I  have  the  honor  to 
represent  at  Washington,  the  most  heartfelt  thanks  for  the 
Christian  and  noble  undertaking  unpretentiously  assumed  and 
most  successfully  prosecuted  by  the  Children's  Aid  Society  for 
the  improvement  of  the  poor  class  of  the  Italian  population  in 
your  city.  My  visit  to  the  Italian  School  under  your  charge,  on 
the  23d  instant,  was  to  me  a  source  of  high  gratification,  and 
convinced  me  that,  by  your  efficient  and  humane  exertions, 
hundreds  of  poor  Italian  children  have  been  redeemed  from 
vagrancy  and  turned  into  industrious  and  useful  members  of  the 
community.  The  cleanliness,  mental  training,  and  admirable 
behavior  of  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  pupils  assembled  on  that 
occasion,  impressed  me  with  a  deep  sense  of  gratitude  toward 
the  friends  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  and  to  you  personally, 
for  your  unsparing  efforts  in  devising  and  forwarding  such  a 
useful  institution.    I  can  only  hope  that  your  Society  may  ever 


LETTER  FROM  ITALIAN  MINISTER.  211 


prosper  and  continue  its  charitable  work  in  the  vast  field  of  its 
operations  with  that  truly  Christian  and  benevolent  spirit  which 
distinguishes  this  glorious  undertaking. 

" '  Believe  me,  dear  sir, 

' "  Yours  respectfully, 
[Signed]  " '  MARCEL  CERRUTI, 

" '  Minister  Plenipotentiary  from  Italy  at  Washington' 

GENERAL  REMARKS. 

"  For  brevity's  sake  I  had  to  omit  mentioning  incidents  which 
speak  very  highly  of  our  pupils.  Nor  have  I  space  to  describe 
the  many  cases  of  articles  and  money  found  by  them  and  handed 
to  me  for  investigation  as  to  the  rightful  owner ;  and  their  spon- 
taneous liberality  and  hearty  contributions  to  the  Garibaldi 
Fund  in  1859,  to  the  New  York  Sanitary  Fair  in  1864,  and  to  the 
relief  of  the  orphans  and  wounded  of  the  late  war  of  Italy  and 
Prussia  against  Austria.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  our  aim  is  to  ren- 
der them  useful,  honest,  industrious,  and  intelligent  citizens. 
In  that  direction  we  have  been  laboring,  and  with  what  success 
has  been  seen." 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

THE  "LAMBS"  OF  COTTAGE  PLACE. 

Beyond  a  certain  point,  the  history  of  these 
various  schools  becomes  monotonous.  It  is  simply  a 
history  of  kindness,  of  patience,  of  struggles  with 
ignorance,  poverty,  and  intemperance ;  of  lives  poured 
out  for  the  good  of  those  who  can  never  make  a  re- 
turn, of  steady  improvement  and  the  final  elevation 
of  great  numbers  of  children  and  youth  who  are  under 
these  permanent  and  profound  influences. 

In  no  one  of  the  many  branches  whose  labors  and 
results  I  am  describing,  has  probably  so  much  vitality 
been  expended,  so  much  human  earnestness  been 
offered  with  such  patience,  humility,  and  faith,  as  in 
the  humble  Mission  of  u  Cottage  Place." 

It  began  with  a  u  Boys'  Meeting,"  under  Mr.  Macy, 
a  practical  philanthropist,  of  whom  I  shall  speak 
again. 

The  quarter  is  a  very  notorious  one,  and  contains 
numbers  of  idle  and  vagrant  boys  and  girls.  The 
success  of  Mr.  Macy  with  the  meeting,  and  the  expe- 
rience he  gained  there  of  a  wild  class  of  girls  induced 


A  LABOR  OF  LOVE. 


213 


him  and  his  sisters  to  attempt  in  1859  to  found  a 
School  for  girls ;  to  this  was  gradually  added  a  "  Free 
Beading-room,"  a  library,  and  various  temperance  and 
other  associations.  Ladies  of  position  and  wealth 
were  attracted  to  it,  as  well  as  others,  from  seeing  the 
quiet  and  earnest  nature  of  the  work  done ;  there  was 
no  show  or  "  blowing  of  trumpets,"  or  any  great  ex- 
pense, but  there  were  two  or  three  men  and  women 
connected  with  it  who  evidently  thought  night  and  day 
of  the  rough  boys  and  miserable  girls  that  attended 
it ;  who  felt  no  toil  too  great,  if  it  could  truly  benefit 
these  unfortunate  creatures. 

The  lady-volunteers  seemed  to  catch  the  same 
spirit  of  Christian  sacrifice  and  earnestness.  One 
who  has  since  become  a  missionary  in  a  distant  hea- 
then land,  poured  out  here  for  these  American  heathen 
some  of  the  best  years  of  her  youth  in  the  most  en- 
thusiastic and  constant  labors. 

Others  visited  the  homes  of  the  poor,  some  taught 
in  the  classes,  and  all  labored  with  their  own  hands  to 
arrange  the  festivals  and  dinners  which  they  provided 
so  freely  for  the  needy  children.  For  twelve  years 
now  those  young  ladies  or  their  friends  have  wrought 
Yinceasingly  at  this  labor  of  love. 

The  great  burden  of  the  School,  however,  fell  on 
Miss  Macy,  a  woman  of  long  experience  with  this 
class,  and  a  profound  and  intense  spirit  of  humanity. 
I  never  shall  forget  the  scene  (as  reported  to  me)  when, 


214    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

at  the  opening  of  the  School,  after  the  July  riots  in 
1883  against  the  colored  people,  a  deputation  of  hard- 
looking,  heavy-drinking  Irish  women,  the  mothers  of 
some  twenty  or  thirty  of  the  children,  waited  on  her 
to  demand  the  exclusion  of  some  colored  children. 
In  the  most  amiable  and  Quaker-like  manner,  hut 
with  the  firmness  of  the  old  Puritan  stock  from  which 
she  sprung,  she  assured  them  that,  if  every  other 
scholar  left,  so  long  as  that  school  remained  it  should 
never  he  closed  to  any  child  on  account  of  color. 
They  withdrew  their  children,  but  soon  after  returned 
them. 

Like  the  other  Schools,  the  Cottage  Place  gives  a 
great  deal  of  assistance  to  the  poor,  but  it  does  so  in 
connection  with  education,  and  therefore  creates  no 
pauperism. 

The  same  experience  is  passed  through  here  as 
under  the  other  Schools.  The  children  are  nearly  all 
the  offspring  of  drunkards,  but  they  do  not  themselves 
drink  as  they  grow  up.  The  slovenly  learn  cleanli- 
ness, the  vagrant  industry,  the  careless  punctuality 
and  order.  Thieving  was  very  prevalent  in  the  School 
when  it  was  founded ;  now  it  is  never  known.  All 
have  been  beggars ;  but,  as  they  improve  under  teach- 
ing, and  when  they  leave  their  homes,  they  never  fol- 
low begging  as  a  pursuit.  Hardly  a  graduate  of  the 
School,  whether  boy  or  girl,  is  known  who  has  become 
a  thief,  or  beggar,  or  criminal,  or  prostitute.    Such  is 


FIRST  WARD  CELLARS. 


215 


the  power  of  daily  kindness  and  training,  of  Christian- 
ity early  applied. 

Outside  of  the  School,  great  numbers  of  lads  are 
brought  under  the  influence  of  the  u  Bands  of  Hope," 
the  "  Beading-room,"  and  the  lectures  and  amuse- 
ments offered  them. 

The  result  of  all  this  has  been  noticed  by  the 
neighboring  manufacturers  in  the  moral  improvement 
of  the  Ward. 

THE  LITTLE  BEGGARS  OF  THE  FIRST  WARD. 

One  of  the  eye-sores  which  used  to  trouble  me 
was  the  condition  of  the  city  behind  Trinity  Church. 
Often  and  often  have  I  walked  through  Greenwich 
and  Washington  Streets,  or  the  narrow  lanes  of  the 
quarter,  watching  the  ragged,  wild  children  flitting 
about ;  or  have  visited  the  damp  underground  base- 
ments which  every  high  tide  flooded,  crowded  with 
men,  women,  and  children ;  or  climbed  to  the  old  rook- 
eries, packed  to  the  smallest  attic  with  a  wretched 
population,  and  have  wished  so  that  something  might 
be  done  for  this  miserable  quarter,  which  is  in  a  Ward 
where  more  wealth  is  accumulated  than  in  any  other 
one  place  in  America. 

First  I  induced  our  Board  to  send  a  careful  agent 
through  the  district,  to  collect  exact  statistics.  Then 
an  application  was  made  to  the  wealthy  Corporation 
of  Trinity  Church,  to  assist  or  to  found  some  charitable 


216    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

enterprise  for  this  wretched  population  under  the 
shadow  of  its  spire.  For  two  years  we  continued  these 
applications,  but  without  avail.  Then  it  occurred  to 
me  that  we  should  try  the  business-men  who  were 
daily  passing  these  scenes  of  misery  and  crime. 

Fortunately,  I  struck  upon  a  young  merchant  of 
singular  conscientiousness  of  purpose,  who  had  felt 
for  a  long  time  the  sad  evils  of  the  Ward.  With  him 
I  addressed  another  gentleman  of  a  well-known  eleva- 
tion of  character,  and  a  certain  manly  persistency 
that  led  him  never  to  turn  back  when  he  had  "  put  his 
hand  to  the  plow."  A  few  personal  friends  joined 
them,  and  I  soon  saw  that  we  were  secure  of  the  future. 
Our  leader  had  a  great  social  influence,  and  he  at  once 
turned  it  to  aid  his  philanthropic  scheme ;  he  himself, 
gave  freely,  and  called  upon  his  friends  for  money. 
The  School  was  founded  in  1860,  and  at  once  gathered 
in  a  large  number  of  the  waifs  of  the  First  Ward,  and 
has  had  a  like  happy  influence  with  our  other  Schools. 

Our  treasurer  and  leader,  Mr.  J.  Oouper  Lord — 
alas !  too  early  taken  from  us  all — sustained  it  himself 
in  good  part  during  disastrous  years.  Through  his 
aid,  also,  a  Free  Beading-room  was  founded  in  the 
same  building,  which  has  been  more  uniformly  suc- 
cessful and  useful  than  any  similar  enterprise  in  the 
city.  His  devotion  to  the  interests  of  these  poor  peo- 
ple has  left  an  enduring  harvest  of  good  through 
the  whole  quarter. 


A  STKEET-S  WEEPER. 


217 


The  following  extract  from  our  Journal  will  give  a 
good  idea  of  the  changes  effected  by  this  charity,  now 
rightly  called  the  u  Lord  School 79 : — 

A  STREE  T-S  WEEPER  TS  THE  LORD  SCHOOL. 

"  For  a  number  of  years,  the  writer  of  this  remembers  a  little 
girl  in  the  First  Ward  School  who  was  a  kind  of  bete  noir  of 
the  school — Ann  Jane  T  .  Both  of  her  parents  were  drunk- 
ards, and  were  half  the  time  on  the  Island  under  arrest ;  she 
herself  was  twice  found  drunk  in  the  School  before  she  was 
thirteen  years  old  ;  once  she  attacked  the  teacher  violently. 
She  swept  crossings  for  a  living,  and  '  lived  about/  often  sleep- 
ing in  halls  and  stairways  ;  for  a  year  she  occupied  the  same 
bed  and  living-  room  with  eight  large  boys  and  girls  from  the 
school,  and  some  thirteen  grown  people  ;  the  lower  part  of  the 
house  was  a  dance-saloon  and  place  of  bad  character.  Annie 
seemed  a  hopeless  case ;  she  swore  and  used  the  most  vile  lan- 
guage, and  was  evidently  growing  up  to  be  a  most  abandoned 
woman.  The  teacher  of  the  Lord  Industrial  School,  Miss  Blod- 
gett,  was  a  person  of  singular  sweetness  and  dignity  of  char- 
acter, as  well  as  remarkable  personal  beauty.  She  soon  acquired 
a  great  influence  over  the  wild  girl.  Once  little  Annie  was 
found  waiting  with  her  broom  in  a  bitter  storm  of  sleet  and  hail 
on  a  corner,  and  the  teacher  asked  her  why  she  was  there  ?  and 
why  she  did  not  go  home  ?  She  said  she  only  wanted  just  to 
see  the  teacher — and  the  fact  was  she  hadn't  any  home — '  for 
you  know,  Miss  Blodgett,  there  is  no  one  cares  for  me  in  all  New 
York  but  you ! '    This  touched  the  teacher's  heart. 

"  At  length  the  father  died  on  Blackwell's  Island,  and  the 
mother  was  in  prison,  and  Miss  B.  persuaded  Annie  to  go  away 
to  a  place  she  had  found  for  her  in  an  excellent  family  in  the 
West.  When  the  mother  came  out  she  was  furious,  and  often 
made  Miss  B.  tremble  for  fear  she  would  insist  on  having  the 
child  back  ;  but  she  gradually  saw  her  absence  was  for  the 
best.    Now  the  mother  is  permanently  in  the  Alms-house. 

"  The  following  letter  came  recently  about  Annie,  who  has 
been  in  her  place  some  three  years.  The  liberal  and  kind 
10 


218    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


friends  of  the  School  will  feel  that  one  such  case  will  repay 
all  their  sacrifices.  Yet  there  are  hundreds  like  them,  though 
not  so  striking. 

"  It  should  be  observed  that  nearly  all  the  scholars  live  a  good 
deal  as  Annie  did,  in  crowded  tenements,  and  more  or  less  asso- 
ciated with  dance-saloons  and  places  of  bad  character.  Yet  only 
one  has  ever  gone  astray.    Here  is  the  letter : 

" '  F  ,  III.,  Feb.  15,  1870. 

' '  My  Dear  Miss  Flagg— Your  favor  of  the  25th  ult.  was  duly 
received.  I  am  very  happy  to  be  able  to  give  you  good  accounts 
of  Annie,  about  whom  you  inquire.  She  has  been  with  us  con- 
stantly since  she  left  you,  and  is  now  our  main  dependence. 
We  have  sent  her  to  school  a  considerable  portion  of  the  time, 
and  she  is  now  in  constant  attendance  there.  Her  truthfulness 
and  honesty  are  something  quite  remarkable.  We  do  not  think 
she  has  eaten  a  piece  of  cake  or  an  apple,  without  special  per- 
mission, since  she  has  been  with  us.  Nothing  seems  to  give  her 
more  pleasure  than  to  be  able  to  do  something,  especially  for 
Mrs.  W.  or  myself.  We  have  been  inquired  of  about  getting 
such  girls,  by  other  people — our  friends.  Have  you  others  whom 
you  wish  to  place  in  situations  which  we  could  assure  you  would 
be  good  ?  If  so,  please  inform  me  as  to  the  manner  in  which 
you  are  accustomed  to  do  it.  Do  you  pay  their  fare  to  their  new 
home,  and  are  there  any  other  particulars  about  which  parties 
would  wish  to  be  informed  ?    Respectfully  yours, 

"'Geo.  W.  WY" 

Since  Mr.  Lord's  death,  another  treasurer,  Mr.  D. 
E.  Hawley,  is  bearing  the  burden  of  the  School,  and, 
in  company  with  a  committee  of  prominent  business- 
men of  the  First  Ward,  is  making  it  a  benefit  not  to 
be  measured,  to  all  the  poor  people  of  the  quarter. 

A  TRULY  "RAGGED  SCHOOL." 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  School  which  is  most  of  a 
"  Eagged  School,"  of  all  these,  is  in  one  of  the  former 


A  RAG-GED  SCHOOL. 


219 


fashionable  quarters  of  the  city.  The  quaint,  pleasing 
old  square  called  St.  John's  Park  is  now  occupied  as 
a  freight  depot,  and  the  handsome  residences  border- 
ing it  have  become  tenement-houses.  Between  the 
grand  freight  station  and  the  river,  overlooked  by  the 
statue  of  the  millionaire,  are  divers  little  lanes  and 
alleys,  filled  with  a  wretched  population. 

Their  children  are  gathered  into  this  School.  An 
up-hill  work  the  teachers  have  had  of  it  thus  far,  owing 
to  the  extreme  poverty  and  misery  of  the  parents,  and 
the  little  aid  received  from  the  fortunate  classes. 

FOURTEENTH  WARD  SCHOOL. 

This  is  a  large  and  useful  charity,  and  is  guided  by 
two  sisters  of  great  elevation  of  purpose  and  earnest- 
ness of  character,  who  are  known  as  "  Friends  of  the 
Poor ??  in  all  that  quarter. 

THE  COLORED  SCHOOL. 

Here  gather  great  numbers  of  destitute  colored 
children  of  the  city.  Some  are  rough  boys  and  young 
men,  who  are  admirably  controlled  by  a  most  gentle 
lady,  who  is  Principal;  her  assistant  was  fittingly  pre- 
pared for  the  work  by  teaching  among  the  freedmen. 

The  colored  people  of  the  city  seldom  fall  into  such 
helpless  poverty  as  the  foreign  whites ;  still  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  destitution  and  exposure  to  temptation 
among  them.   The  children  seem  to  learn  as  readily 


220    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

as  whites,  though  they  are  afflicted  with  a  more  sullen 
temper,  and  require  to  be  managed  more  delicately — 
praise  and  ridicule  being  indispensable  implements  for 
the  teacher.  Their  singing  far  surpasses  that  of  our 
other  scholars. 

Among  our  other  schools  is  a  most  useful .  one 
for  a  peculiarly  wild  class,  in  the  Rivington-street 
Lodging-house ;  one  in  West  Fifty-third  and  in  West 
Fifty-second  Streets,  and  a  very  large  and  well-con- 
ducted one  for  the  shanty  population  near  the  Park, 
called 

THE  pake:  school. 

A  very  spirited  teacher  here  manages  numbers  of 
wild  boys  and  ungoverned  girls.  The  most  interest- 
ing feature  is  a  Mght-school,  where  pupils  come,  some 
from  a  mile  distant,  having  labored  in  factories  or 
street-trades  all  day  long — sometimes  even  giving  up 
their  suppers  for  the  sake  of  the  lessons,  with  a  hun- 
ger for  knowledge  which  the  children  of  the  favored 
classes  know  little  of.  Two  other  Schools  shall  con- 
clude our  catalogue — one  in  the  House  of  Industry 
(West  Sixteenth  Street),  and  the  other  in  the  Eigh- 
teenth-street Lodging-house.  Both  Schools  are  strug 
gling  with  great  obstacles  and  difficulties,  as  they 
are  planted  in  the  quarter  which  has  produced  the 
notorious  "  Nineteenth-street  Gang."  The  teacher  in 
the  latter  has  already  overcome  most  of  them,  and  has 


IMPROVEMENT  OF  SCHOOLS. 


221 


tamed  as  wild  a  set  of  little  street-barbarians  as  ever 
plagued  a  school-teacher. 

A  rigid  rule  has  been  laid  down  and  followed  out 
in  these  Schools — that  is,  not  to  admit  or  retain  pupils 
who  might  be  in  the  Public  Schools.  Our  object  is  to 
supplement  these  useful  public  institutions,  and  we 
are  continually  sending  the  children  forth,  when  they 
seem  fit,  to  take  places  in  the  Free  Schools.  Many, 
however;  are  always  too  poor,  ragged  and  necessarily 
irregular  in  attendance,  to  be  adapted  to  the  more 
systematic  and  respectable  places  of  instruction.  As 
has  been  already  mentioned,  the  plan  has  been  steadily 
pursued  from  the  beginning  by  the  writer,  to  make 
these  as  good  Primary  Schools  as  under  the  circum- 
stances they  were  capable  of  becoming.  The  grade  of 
the  teachers  has  been  constantly  raised,  and  many  of 
the  graduates  of  our  best  training  academy  for 
teachers  in  New  York  State — the  Oswego  Normal 
School — have  been  secured  at  remunerative  salaries. 

Within  the  last  four  years,  also,  a  new  officer  has 
been  appointed  by  the  Board  of  Trustees,  to  con- 
stantly examine  the  schools  and  teachers,  keep  them 
at  the  highest  grade  possible,  and  visit  the  families  of 
the  children.  This  place  has  been  ably  filled  by  an 
intelligent  and  educated  gentleman,  Mr.  John  W. 
Skinner,  with  the  best  effects  on  our  system  of 
instruction. 


222    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Our  plan  of  visitation  among  the  families  of  the 
poor,  whereby  the  helping  hand  is  held  out  to  juvenile 
poverty  and  ignorance  all  the  while,  has  been  effec- 
tually carried  out  by  a  very  earnest  worker,  Mr.  M. 
Dupuy,  in  the  lower  wards,  and  by  a  young  German- 
American  of  much  judgment  and  zeal,  Mr.  Holste, 
in  the  German  quarter,  and  by  quite  a  number  of 
female  visitors. 


" PLEASE,  SIK,  MAY  I  HAVE  A  BED?" 

(A  sketch  from  life. ) 
No.  1 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 


THE  BEST  REMEDY  FOR  JUVENILE  PAUPERISM. 

"  Ameliorer  l'homme  par  la  terre  et  la  terre  par  l'homnie." 

Demetz. 

Among  the  lowest  poor  of  New  York,  as  we  stated 
in  a  previous  chapter,  the  influence  of  overcrowding 
has  been  incredibly  debasing.  When  we  find  half  a 
dozen  families — as  we  frequently  do — occupying  one 
room,  the  old  and  young,  men  and  women,  boys  and 
girls  of  all  ages  sleeping  near  each  other,  the  result 
is  inevitable.  The  older  persons  commit  unnatural 
crimes ;  the  younger  grow  up  with  hardly  a  sense  of 
personal  dignity  or  purity;  the  girls  are  corrupted 
even  in  childhood;  and  the  boys  become  naturally 
thieves,  vagrants,  and  vicious  characters.  Such 
apartments  are  at  once  "  fever-nests  v  and  seminaries 
of  vice.  The  inmates  are  weakened  and  diseased 
physically,  and  degraded  spiritually.  Where  these 
houses  abound,  as  formerly  in  the  Five  Points,  or  now 
in  the  First  Ward,  or  near  Corlear's  Hook,  or  in  the 
Seventeenth  Ward  near  the  Tenth  Avenue,  there  is 
gradually  formed  a  hideous  society  of  vice  and  pau- 
perism. The  men  are  idle  and  drunken,  the  women 
lazy,  quarrelsome,  and  given  to  begging ;  the  children 


224    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

see  nothing  but  examples  of  drunkenness,  lust,  and 
idleness,  and  they  grow  up  inevitably  as  sharpers, 
beggars,  thieves,  burglars,  and  prostitutes.  Amid 
such  communities  of  outcasts  the  institutions  of  edu- 
cation and  religion  are  comparatively  powerless. 
What  is  done  for  the  children  on  one  sacred  day  is 
wiped  out  by  the  influence  of  the  week,  and  even  daily 
instruction  has  immense  difficulty  in  counteracting  the 
lessons  of  home  and  jjarents. 

For  such  children  of  the  outcast  poor,  a  more  radi- 
cal cure  is  needed  than  the  usual  influences  of  school 
and  church. 

The  same  obstacle  also  appeared  soon  with  the 
homeless  lads  and  girls  who  were  taken  into  the  Lodg- 
ing-houses. Though  without  a  home,  they  were  often 
not  legally  vagrant — that  is,  they  had  some  ostensible 
occupation,  some  street-trade — and  no  judge  would 
commit  them,  unless  a  very  flagrant  case  of  vagrancy 
was  made  out  against  them.  They  were  unwilling  to 
be  sent  to  Asylums,  and,  indeed,  were  so  numerous 
that  all  the  Asylums  of  the  State  could  not  contain 
them.  Moreover,  their  care  and  charge  in  public 
institutions  would  have  entailed  expenses  on  the  city 
so  heavy,  that  tax-payers  would  not  have  consented  to 
the  burden. 

The  workers,  also,  in  this  movement  felt  from  the 
beginning  that  u  asylum-life"  is  not  the  best  training 
for  outcast  children  in  preparing  them  for  practical 


DEMAND  FOR  LABOR. 


225 


life.  In  large  buildings,  where  a  multitude  of  children 
are  gathered  together,  the  bad  corrupt  the  good,  and 
the  good  are  not  educated  in  the  virtues  of  real  life. 
The  machinery,  too,  which  is  so  necessary  in  such 
large  institutions,-unflts  a  poor  boy  or  girl  for  practical 
handwork. 

The  founders  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society  early 
saw  that  the  best  of  all  Asylums  for  the  outcast  child, 
is  the  farmer's  home. 

The  United  States  have  the  enormous  advantage 
over  all  other  countries,  in  the  treatment  of  difficult 
questions  of  pauperism  and  reform,  that  they  possess 
a  practically  unlimited  area  of  arable  land.  The  de- 
mand for  labor  on  this  land  is  beyond  any  present 
supply.  Moreover,  the  cultivators  of  the  soil  are  in 
America  our  most  solid  and  intelligent  class.  From 
the  nature  of  their  circumstances,  their  laborers, 
or  "help,"  must  be  members  of  their  families,  and 
share  in  their  social  tone.  It  is,  accordingly,  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  them  to  train  up  children  who 
shall  aid  in  their  work,  and  be  associates  of  their 
own  children.  A  servant  who  is  nothing  but  a  serv- 
ant, would  be,  with  them,  disagreeable  and  inconve- 
nient. They  like  to  educate  their  own  u  help.'7  With 
their  overflowing  supply  of  food  also,  each  new  mouth 
in  the  household  brings  no  drain  on  their  means. 
Children  are  a  blessing,  and  the  mere  feeding  of  a 
young  boy  or  girl  is  not  considered  at  all. 


226    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

With  this  fortunate  state  of  things,  it  was  but  a 
natural  inference  that  the  important  movement  now 
inaugurating  for  the  benefit  of  the  unfortunate  chil- 
dren of  New  York  should  at  once  strike  upon  a  plan 
of 

EMIGRATION. 

Simple  and  most  effective  as  this  ingenious  scheme 
now  seems — which  has  accomplished  more  in  relieving 
New  York  of  youthful  crime  and  misery  than  all  other 
charities  together — at  the  outset  it  seemed  as  difficult 
and  perplexing  as  does  the  similar  cure  proposed  now 
in  Great  Britain  for  a  more  terrible  condition  of  the 
children  of  the  poor. 

Among  other  objections,  it  was  -feared  that  the 
farmers  would  not  want  the  children  for  help;  that, 
if  they  took  them,  the  latter  would  be  liable  to  ill- 
treatment,  or,  if  well  treated,  would  corrupt  the  virtu- 
ous children  around  them,  and  thus  New  York  would 
be  scattering  seeds  of  vice  and  corruption  all  over  the 
land.  Accidents  might  occur  to  the  unhappy  little 
ones  thus  sent,  bringing  odium  on  the  benevolent 
persons  who  were  dispatching  them  to  the  country. 
How  were  places  to  be  found?  How  were  the  demand 
and  supply  for  children's  labor  to  be  connected? 
How  were  the  right  employers  to  be  selected  ?  And, 
when  the  children  were  placed,  how  were  their  inter- 
ests to  be  watched  over,  and  acts  of  oppression  or 


"PLACING-OUT." 


227 


hard  dealing  prevented  or  punished  ?  Were  they  to 
be  indentured,  or  not  ?  If  this  was  the  right  scheme, 
why  had  it  not  been  tried  long  ago  in  our  cities  or  in 
England? 

These  and  innumerable  similar  difficulties  and  ob- 
jections were  offered  to  this  projected  plan  of  reliev- 
ing the  city  of  its  youthful  pauperism  and  suffering. 
They  all  fell  to  the  ground  before  the  confident  efforts 
to  carry  out  a  well-laid  scheme ;  and  practical  experi- 
ence has  justified  none  of  them. 

To  awaken  the  demand  for  these  children,  circu- 
lars were  sent  out  through  the  city  weeklies  and  the 
rural  papers  to  the  country  districts.  Hundreds  of 
applications  poured  in  at  once  from  the  farmers  and 
mechanics  all  through  the  Union.  At  first,  we  made 
the  effort  to  meet  individual  applications  by  sending 
just  the  kind  of  children  wanted ;  but  this  soon  be- 
came impracticable. 

Each  applicant  or  employer  always  called  for  "a 
perfect  child,"  without  any  of  the  taints  of  earthly  de- 
pravity. The  girls  must  be  pretty,  good-tempered, 
not  given  to  purloining  sweetmeats,  and  fond  of 
making  fires  at  daylight,  and  with  a  constitutional 
love  for  Sunday  Schools  and  Bible-lessons.  The  boys 
must  be  well  made,  of  good  stock,  never  disposed  to 
steal  apples  or  pelt  cattle,  using  language  of  perfect 
propriety,  and  delighting  in  family-worship  and 
prayer-meetings  more  than  in  fishing  or  skating  par- 


228    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


ties.  These  demands,  of  course,  were  not  always 
successfully  complied  with.  Moreover,  to  those  who 
desired  the  children  of  "blue  eyes,  fair  hair,  and 
blond  complexion,"  we  were  sure  to  send  the  dark- 
eyed  and  brunette ;  and  the  particular  virtues  wished 
for  were  very  often  precisely  those  that  the  child  was 
deficient  in.  It  was  evidently  altogether  too  much  of 
a  lottery  for  bereaved  parents  or  benevolent  employ- 
ers to  receive  children  in  that  way. 

Tet,  even  under  this  incomplete  plan,  there  were 
many  cases  like  the  following,  which  we  extract  from 
our  Journal : — 

A  WAIF. 

"  In  visiting,  during  May  last,  near  the  docks  at  the  foot  of 
Twenty-third  Street,  I  found  a  boy,  about  twelve  years  of  age, 
sitting  on  the  wharf,  very  ragged  and  wretched-looking.  I  asked 
him  where  he  lived,  and  he  made  the  answer  one  hears  so  often 
from  these  children — 'I  don't  live  nowhere.'  On  further  inquiry, 
it  appeared  that  his  parents  had  died  a  few  years  before — that 
his  aunt  took  him  for  a  while,  but,  being  a  drunken  woman,  had 
at  length  turned  him  away ;  and  for  some  time  he  had  slept  in 
a  box  in  Twenty-second  Street,  and  the  boys  fed  Mm,  he  occasion- 
ally making  a  sixpence  with  holding  horses  or  doing  an  errand. 
He  had  eaten  nothing  that  day,  though  it  was  afternoon.  I  gave 
him  something  to  eat,  and  he  promised  to  come  up  the  next  day 
to  the  office. 

"He  came  up,  and  we  had  a  long  talk  together.  He  was 
naturally  an  intelligent  boy,  of  good  temperament  and  organiza- 
tion ;  but  in  our  Christian  city  of  New  York  he  had  never  heard 
of  Jesus  Christ !  His  mother,  long  ago,  had  taught  him  a  prayer, 
and  occasionally  he  said  this  in  the  dark  nights,  lying  on  the 
boards.    *   *   *   Of  schools  or  churches,  of  course,  he  knew 


A  VAGKRANT  RECLAIMED. 


229 


nothing.  We  sent  him  to  a  gentleman  in  Delaware,  who  had 
wished  to  make  the  experiment  of  bringing  up  a  vagrant  boy  of 
the  city.    He  thus  writes  at  his  arrival : — 

" '  The  boy  reached  Wilmington  in  safety,  where  I  found  him 
a  few  hours  after  he  arrived.  Poor  boy !  He  bears  about  him,  , 
or,  rather,  is,  the  unmistakable  evidence  of  the  life  he  has  led — 
covered  with  vermin,  almost  a  leper,  ignorant  in  the  extreme, 
and  seeming  wonder-struck  almost  at  the  voice  of  kindness  and 
sympathy,  and  bewildered  with  the  idea  of  possessing  a  ward- 
robe gotten  for  him. 

" '  So  far  as  I  can  judge  from  so  short  an  observation,  I  should 
think  him  an  amiable  boy,  grateful  for  kindness  shown  him, 
rather  timid  than  energetic,  yet  by  no  means  deficient  in  intel- 
lectual capacity,  and  altogether  such  a  one  as,  by  God's  help,  can 
be  made  something  of.  Such  as  he  is,  or  may  turn  out  to  be,  I 
accept  the  trust  conferred  upon  me,  not  insensible  of  the  respons- 
ibility I  incur  in  thus  becoming  the  instructor  and  trainer  of  a 
being  destined  to  an  endless  life,  of  which  that  which  he  passes 
under  my  care,  while  but  the  beginning,  may  determine  all  the 
rest/ 

"  In  a  letter  six  months  later,  he  writes : — 

" '  It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  be  able  to  state  that  Johnny 
S  continues  to  grow  in  favor  with  us  all.  Having  been  re- 
claimed from  his  vagrant  habits,  which  at  first  clung  pretty  close 
to  him,  he  may  now  be  said  to  be  a  steady  and  industrious  boy. 

" '  I  have  not  had  occasion,  since  he  has  been  under  my  care, 
to  reprove  him  so  often  as  once  even,  having  found  gentle  and 
kindly  admonition  quite  sufficient  to  restrain  him.  He  is  affec- 
tionate in  disposition,  very  truthful,  and  remarkably  free  from 
the  use  of  profane  or  rough  language.  I  find  less  occasion  to 
look  after  him  than  is  usual  with  children  of  his  age,  in  order 
to  ascertain  that  the  animals  intrusted  to  his  care  are  well 
attended  to,  etc. 

h -t ,  *  *  *  Johnny  is  now  a  very  good  speller  out  of  books, 
reads  quite  fairly,  and  will  make  a  superior  penman — an  apt 
scholar,  and  very  fond  of  his  books.  I  have  been  his  teacher 
thus  far.  He  attends  regularly  a  Sabbath  School,  of  which  I 
have  the  superintendence,  and  the  religious  services  which 
follow/  " 


230    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


The  effort  to  place  the  city-children  of  the  street  in 
country  families  revealed  a  spirit  of  humanity  and 
kindness,  throughout  the  rural  districts,  which  was 
truly  delightful  to  see.  People  bore  with  these  chil- 
dren of  poverty,  sometimes,  as  they  did  not  with  then- 
own.  There  was — and  not  in  one  or  two  families 
alone — a  sublime  spirit  of  patience  exhibited  toward 
these  unfortunate  little  creatures,  a  bearing  with  de- 
fects and  inherited  evils,  a  forgiving  over  and  over 
again  of  sins  and  wrongs,  which  showed  how  deep  a 
hold  the  spirit  of  Christ  had  taken  of  many  of  our 
countrywomen. 

To  receive  such  a  letter  as  this  elevated  one's  re- 
spect for  human  nature  :— 

"  S  ,  Ohio,  February  14, 1859. 

"  I  wish  to  add  a  few  words  to  Carrie's  letter,  to  inform  you 
of  her  welfare  and  progress.  As  she  lias  said,  it  is  now  one  year 
since  she  came  to  us ;  and,  in  looking  back  upon  the  time,  I  feel 
that,  considering  her  mental  deficiencies,  she  has  made  as  much 
progress  in  learning  as  could  be  expected.  Her  health,  which 
was  at  first  and  for  several  months  the  greatest  source  of  anxiety 
to  us,  is  so  much  improved  that  she  is,  indeed,  well.  Her  eyes 
are  better ;  though  rather  weak,  they  do  not  much  interfere  with 
her  studies.  She  could  neither  sew  nor  knit  when  she  came 
here,  and  she  can  now  do  plain  kinds  of  both,  if  it  is  prepared 
for  her.  She  could  not  tell  all  the  alphabet,  and  could  spell  only 
three  or  four  words.  She  now  reads  quite  fluently,  though  some- 
times stopping  at  a  '  hard  word/  and  is  as  good  at  spelling  as 
many  Yankee  children  of  her  age.  I  hope  she  has  learned  some 
wholesome  moral  truths,  and  she  has  received  much  religious 
instruction.  Though  really  quite  a  conscientious  child  when  she 
came,  she  had  a  habit  of  telling  lies  to  screen  herself  from  blarney 
to  which  she  is  peculiarly  sensitive ;  but  I  think  she  has  been 


LITTLE  EMIGRANTS. 


231 


cured  of  this  for  a  long  time,  and  I  place  perfect  confidence  in 
her  word  and  in  her  honesty.  I  succeeded  in  getting  her  fitted 
to  enter  one  of  our  intermediate  schools  by  teaching  her  at  home 
until  the  beginning  of  the  present  winter.  I  am  obliged,  on 
account  of  her  exceeding  dullness,  to  spend  much  time  in  teach- 
ing her  out  of  school,  in  order  that  she  may  be  able  to  keep  up 
with  her  classes.  But  I  think  this  has  been  a  work  worth  doing, 
and  I  especially  feel  it  to  be  so  now,  as  I  am  employed  in  this 
retrospect. 

"  I  am  often  asked  by  my  friends,  who  think  the  child  is  little 
more  than  half-witted,  why  I  do  not '  send  her  back,  and  get  a 
brighter  one/  My  answer  is,  that  she  is  just  the  one  who  needs 
the  care  and  kindness  which  Providence  has  put  it  into  my  power 
to  bestow.  We  love  her  dearly ;  but,  if  I  did  not,  I  should  not 
think  of  sending  her  back  to  such  a  place  as  your  great  city. 
She  is  just  one  of  those  who  could  be  imposed  upon  and  abused, 
and  perhaps  may  never  be  able  to  take  care  of  herself  wholly." 

Having  found  the  defects  of  our  first  plan  of  emi- 
gration, we  soon  inaugurated  another,  which  has  since 
been  followed  out  successfully  during  nearly  twenty 
years  of  constant  action. 

We  formed  little  companies  of  emigrants,  and, 
after  thoroughly  cleaning  and  clothing  them,  put  them 
under  a  competent  agent,  and,  first  selecting  a  village 
where  there  was  a  call  or  opening  for  such  a  party,  we 
dispatched  them  to  the  place. 

The  farming  community  having  been  duly  notified, 
there  was  usually  a  dense  crowd  of  people  at  the  sta- 
tion, awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  youthful  travelers. 
The  sight  of  the  little  company  of  the  children  of  mis- 
fortune always  touched  the  hearts  of  a  population 
naturally  generous.   They  were  soon  billeted  around 


232    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK 

among  the  citizens,  and  the  following  day  a  public 
meeting  was  called  in  the  church  or  town-hall,  and  a 
committee  appointed  of  leading  citizens.  The  agent 
then  addressed  the  assembly,  stating  the  benevolent 
objects  of  the  Society,  and  something  of  the  history 
of  the  children.  The  sight  of  their  worn  faces  was  a v 
most  pathetic  enforcement  of  his  arguments.  People 
who  were  childless  came  forward  to  adopt  children ; 
others,  who  had  not  intended  to  take  any  into  their 
families,  were  induced  to  apply  for  them ;  and  many 
who  really  wanted  the  children's  labor  pressed  forward 
to  obtain  it. 

In  every  American  community,  especially  in  a 
Western  one,  there  are  many  spare  places  at  the  table 
of  life.  There  is  no  harassing  "  struggle  for  exist- 
ence." They  have  enough  for  themselves  and  the 
stranger  too.  Not,  perhaps,  thinking  of  it  before,  yet, 
the  orphan  being  placed  in  their  presence  without 
friends  or  home,  they  gladly  welcome  and  train  him. 
The  committee  decide  on  the  applications.  Sometimes 
there  is  almost  a  case  for  Solomon  before  them.  Two 
eager  mothers  without  children  claim  some  little  waif 
thus  cast  on  the  strand  before  them.  Sometimes  the 
family  which  has  taken  in  a  fine  lad  for  the  night  feels 
that  it  cannot  do  without  him,  and  yet  the  committee 
prefer  a  better  home  for  him.  And  so  hours  of  discus- 
sion and  selection  pass.  Those  who  are  able,  pay  the 
fares  of  the  children,  or  otherwise  make  some  gift  to 


WESTERN  HOMES. 


233 


the  Society,  until  at  length  the  business  of  charity  is 
finished,  and  a  little  band  of  young  wayfarers  and 
homeless  rovers  in  the  world  find  themselves  in  com- 
fortable and  kind  homes,  with  all  the  boundless  ad- 
vantages and  opportunities  of  the  Western  farmer's 
life  about  them. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 


PROVIDING  COUNTRY  HOMES. 
THE  OPPOSITION  TO  THIS  REMEDY — ITS  EFFECTS. 

This  most  sound  and  practical  of  charities  always 
met  with  an  intense  opposition  here  from  a  certain 
class,  for  bigoted  reasons.  The  poor  were  early 
taught,  even  from  the  altar,  that  the  whole  scheme  of 
emigration  was  one  of  "  proselytizing/'  and  that  every 
child  thus  taken  forth  was  made  a  "  Protestant." 
Stories  were  spread,  too,  that  these  unfortunate  chil- 
dren were  re-named  in  the  West,  and  that  thus  even 
brothers  and  sisters  might  meet  and  perhaps  marry ! 
Others  scattered  the  pleasant  information  that  the 
little  ones  "  were  sold  as  slaves,"  and  that  the  agents 
enriched  themselves  from  the  transaction. 

These  were  the  obstacles  and  objections  among 
the  poor  themselves.  So  powerful  were  these,  that  it 
would  often  happen  that  a  poor  woman,  seeing  her  child 
becoming  ruined  on  the  streets,  and  soon  plainly  to 
come  forth  as  a  criminal,  would  prefer  this  to  a  good 
home  in  the  West ;  and  we  would  have  the  discourage- 
ment of  beholding  the  lad  a  thief  behind  prison-bars, 
when  a  journey  to  the  country  would  have  saved 


THE  OPPOSITION. 


235 


Mm.  Most  distressing  of  all  was,  when  a  drunken 
mother  or  father  followed  a  half-starved  boy,  already 
scarred  and  sore  with  their  brutality,  and  snatched 
him  from  one  of  our  parties  of  little  emigrants,  all 
joyful  with  their  new  prospects,  only  to  beat  him  and 
leave  him  on  the  streets. 

With  a  small  number  of  the  better  classes  there 
was  also  a  determined  opposition  to  this  humane 
remedy.  What  may  be  called  the  "  Asylum-interest" 
set  itself  in  §tiff  repugnance  to  our  emigration-scheme. 
They  claimed — and  I  presume  the  most  obstinate 
among  them  still  claim — that  we  were  scattering 
poison  over  the  country,  and  that  we  benefited  neither 
the  farmers  nor  the  children.  They  urged  that  a 
restraint  of  a  few  years  in  an  Asylum  or  House  of  De- 
tention rendered  these  children  of  poverty  much  more 
fit  for  practical  life,  and  purified  them  to  be  good 
members  of  society. 

We,  on  the  other  hand,  took  the  ground  that,  as 
our  children  wore  not  criminals,  but  simply  destitute 
and  homeless  boys  and  girls,  usually  with  some  osten- 
sible occupation,  they  could  not  easily,  on  any  legal 
grounds,  be  inclosed  within  Asylums ;  that,  if  they 
were,  the  expense  of  their  maintenance  would  be 
enormous,  while  the  cost  of  a  temporary  care  of  them 
in  our  Schools  and  Lodging-houses,  and  their  trans- 
ference to  the  West,  was  only  trifling — in  the  propor- 
tion of  fifteen  dollars  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 


236    THE  DAlSTGrEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

reckoning  the  latter  as  a  year's  cost  for  a  child's  sup- 
port in  an  Asylum.  Furthermore,  we  held  and  stoutly 
maintained  that  an  asylum-life  is  a  bad  preparation 
for  practical  life.  The  child,  most  of  all,  needs  indi- 
vidual care  and  sympathy.  In  an  Asylum,  he  is  "  Letter 
B,  of  Class  3,"  or  "  Ko.  2,  of  Cell  426,"  and  that  is  aU 
that  is  known  of  him.  As  a  poor  boy,  who  must  live 
in  a  small  house,  he  ought  to  learn  to  draw  his  own 
water,  to  split  his  wood,  kindle  his  fires,  and  light  his 
candle ;  as  an  u  institutional  child,"  he  is  lighted, 
warmed,  and  watered  by  machinery.  He  has  a  child's 
imitation,  a  desire  to  please  his  superiors,  and  readi- 
ness to  be  influenced  by  his  companions.  In  a  great 
caravansary  he  soon  learns  the  external  virtues  which 
secure  him  a  good  bed  and  meal — decorum  and  appar- 
ent piety  and  discipline — while  he  practices  the  vices 
and  unnamable  habits  which  masses  of  boys  of  any 
class  nearly  always  teach  one  another.  His  virtue 
seems  to  have  an  alms-house  flavor ;  even  his  vices  do 
not  present  the  frank  character  of  a  thorough  street- 
boy  ;  he  is  found  to  lie  easily,  and  to  be  very  weak 
under  temptation $  somewhat  given  to  hypocrisy,  and 
something  of  a  sneak.  And,  what  is  very  natural,  the 
longer  he  is  in  the  Asylum^  the  less  likely  he  is  to  do  well 
in  outside  life.  I  hope  I  do  no  injustice  to  the  unfor- 
tunate graduates  of  our  Asylums ;  but  that  was  and 
continues  to  be  my  strong  impression  of  the  institu- 
tional effect  on  an  ordinary  street  boy  or  girl.  Of 


A  WARM  DISCUSSION. 


237 


course  there  are  numerous  exceptional  cases  among 
children — of  criminality  and  inherited  habits,  and 
perverse  and  low  organization,  and  premature  cun- 
ning, lust,  and  temper,  where  a  half-prison  life  may 
be  the  very  best  thing  for  them ;  but  the  majority  of 
criminals  among  children,  I  do  not  believe,  are  much 
worse  than  the  children  of  the  same  class  outside,  and 
therefore  need  scarcely  any  different  training. 

One  test,  which  I  used  often  to  administer  to  my- 
self, as  to  our  different  systems,  was  to  ask — and  I 
request  any  Asylum  advocate  to  do  the  same — "  If 
your  son  were  suddenly,  by  the  death  of  his  parents 
and  relatives,  to  be  thrown  out  on  the  streets,  poor 
and  homeless — as  these  children  are — where  would 
you  prefer  him  to  be  placed — in  an  Asylum,  or  in  a 
good  farmer's  home  in  the  West  ?  n 

u  The  plainest  farmer's  home  rather  than  the  best 
Asylum — a  thousand  times ! 79  was  always  my  sincere 
answer. 

Our  discussion  waxed  warm,  and  was  useful  to 
both  sides.  Our  weak  point  was  that,  if  a  single  boy 
or  girl  in  a  village,  from  a  large  company  we  had  sent, 
turned  out  bad,  there  was  a  cry  raised  that  "  every 
New- York  poor  child,"  thus  sent  out,  became  "  a  thief 
or  a  vagabond,"  and  for  a  time  people  believed  it. 

Our  antagonists  seized  hold  of  this,  and  we  imme- 
diately dispatched  careful  agents  to  collect  statistics 
in  the  Central  West,  and,  if  possible,  disprove  the 


238    THE  DANGrEBOTJS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

charges.  They,  however,  in  the  meantime,  indiscreetly 
published  their  statistics,  and  from  these  it  appeared 
that  only  too  many  of  the  Asylum  graduates  committed 
offenses,  and  that  those  of  the  shortest  terms  did  the 
best.  The  latter  fact  somewhat  confused  their  line  of 
attack. 

The  effort  of  tabulating,  or  making  statistics,  in 
regard  to  the  children  dispatched  by  our  society,  soon 
appeared  exceedingly  difficult,  mainly  because  these 
youthful  wanderers  shared  the  national  characteristic 
of  love-of-change,  and,  like  our  own  servants  here, 
they  often  left  one  place  for  another,  merely  for  fancy 
or  variety.  This  was  especially  true  of  the  lads  or 
girls  over  sixteen  or  seventeen.  The  offer  of  better 
wages,  or  the  attraction  of  a  new  employer,  or  the 
desire  of  "  moving,"  continually  stirred  up  these  latter 
to  migrate  to  another  village,  county,  or  State. 

In  1859  we  made  a  comprehensive  effort  to  collect 
some  of  these  statistics  in  regard  to  our  children  who 
had  begun  their  new  life  in  the  West.  The  following 
is  an  extract  from  our  report  at  this  time : — 

"During  the  last  spring,  the  secretary  made  an  extended 
journey  through  the  Western  States,  to  see  for  himself  the  na- 
ture and  results  of  this  work,  carried  on  for  the  last  five  years 
through  those  States,  under  Mr.  Tracy's  careful  supervision. 
During  that  time  we  have  scattered  there  several  thousands  of 
poor  boys  and  girls.  In  this  journey  he  visited  personally,  and 
heard  directly  of,  many  hundreds  of  these  little  creatures,  and 
appreciated,  for  the  first  time,  to  the  full  extent,  the  spirit  with 
which  the  West  has  opened  its  arms  to  them.    The  effort  to 


WESTERN  CHARITY. 


239 


reform  and  improve  these  young  outcasts  has  become  a  mission- 
woi&  there.  Their  labor,  it  is  true,  is  needed.  But  many  a  time 
a  bountiful  and  Christian  home  is  opened  to  the  miserable  little 
stranger,  his  habits  are  patiently  corrected,  faults  without  num- 
ber are  borne  with,  time  and  money  are  expended  on  him,  solely 
and  entirely  from  the  highest  religious  motive  of  a  noble  self- 
sacrifice  for  an  unfortunate  fellow-creature.  The  peculiar  warm 
heartedness  of  the  Western  people,  and  the  equality  of  all  classes, 
give  them  an  especial  adaptation  to  this  work,  and  account  for 
their  success. 

"  '  Wherever  we  went '  (we  quote  from  his  account) '  we  found 
the  children  sitting  at  the  same  table  with  the  families,  going  to 
the  school  with  the  children,  and  every  way  treated  as  well  as 
any  other  children.  Some  whom  we  had  seen  once  in  the  most 
extreme  misery,  we  beheld  sitting,  clothed  and  clean,  at  hospita- 
ble tables,  calling  the  employer  ,  father/  loved  by  the  happy 
circle,  and  apparently  growing  up  with  as  good  hopes  aud  pros- 
pects as  any  children  in  the  country.  Others  who  had  been  in 
the  city  on  the  very  line  between  virtue  and  vice,  and  who  at 
any  time  might  have  fallen  into  crime,  we  saw  pursuing  indus- 
trial occupations,  and  gaining  a  good  name  for  themselves  in 
their  village.  The  observations  on  this  journey  alone  would 
have  rewarded  years  of  labor  for  this  class.  The  results — so  far 
as  we  could  ascertain  them — were  remarkable,  and,  unless  we 
reflect  on  the  wonderful  influences  possible  from  a  Christian 
home  upon  a  child  unused  to  kindness,  they  would  almost  seem 
incredible. 

" '  The  estimate  we  formed  from  a  considerable  field  of  ob- 
servation was,  that,  out  of  those  sent  to  the  West  under 
fifteen  years,  not  more  than  two  per  cent,  turned  out  bad ;  and, 
even  of  those  from  fifteen  to  eighteen,  not  more  than  four  per 
cent. ' 

"  The  former  estimate  is  nearly  the  same  as  one  forwarded 
to  us  since  by  an  intelligent  clergyman  of  Michigan  (Rev.  Mr. 
Gelston,  of  Albion),  of  the  result  in  his  State.  Of  course,  some 
of  the  older  boys  disappear  entirely;  some  few  return  to  the 
city ;  but  it  may  generally  be  assumed  that  we  hear  of  the  worst 
cases — that  is,  of  those  who  commit  criminal  offenses,  or  who 
come  under  the  law — and  it  is  these  whom  we  reckon  as  the 


240    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


failures.  One  or  two  of  such  cases,  out  of  hundreds  in  a  given 
district  who  are  doing  well,  sometimes  make  a  great  noise,«ind 
give  a  momentary  impression  that  the  work  is  not  coming  out 
well  there ;  and  there  are  always  a  few  weak-minded  people 
who  accept  such  rumors  without  examination.  Were  the  pro- 
portion of  failures  far  greater  than  it  is,  the  work  would  still 
be  of  advantage  to  the  West,  and  a  rich  blessing  to  the  city. 

"  It  is  also  remarkable,  as  years  pass  away,  how  few  cases 
ever  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Society,  of  ill-treatment  of 
these  children.  The  task  of  distributing  them  is  carried  on  so 
publicly  by  Mr.  Tracy,  and  in  connection  with  such  responsible 
persons,  that  any  case  of  positive  abuse  would  at  once  be  known 
and  corrected  by  the  community  itself. 

"'On  this  journey/  says  the  secretary,  'we  heard  of  but  one 
instance  even  of  neglect.  We  visited  the  lad,  and  discovered 
that  he  had  not  been  schooled  as  he  should,  and  had  sometimes 
been  left  alone  at  night  in  the  lonely  log-house.  Yet  this  had 
roused  the  feelings  of  the  whole  country-side ;  we  removed  the 
boy,  amid  the  tears  and  protestations  of  the  "  father "  and 
"  mother,"  and  put  him  in  another  place.  As  soon  as  we  had 
left  the  village,  he  ran  right  back  to  his  old  place  ! ' 

"We  give  our  evidence  below,  consisting  of  letters  from 
prominent  gentlemen,  clergymen,  bankers,  farmers,  judges,  and 
lawyers,  through  the  West,  where  the  main  body  of  these  poor 
children  have  been  placed.  We  think  these  letters,  coming 
from  some  hundred  different  towns,  and  the  evidence  on  our 
books  from  the  boys  themselves,  establish  the  remarkable  suc- 
cess of  the  work.  Some  of  the  writers  speak  of  the  children  as 
thriving  'as  well  as  any  other  children/  and,  in  some  cases, 
those  who  have  become  disobedient  and*  troublesome  are  said  to 
have  been  so  principally  through  the  fault  of  their  employers ; 
few  instances,  comparatively,  from  this  four  or  five  thousand, 
are  known  to  have  committed  criminal  offenses — in  some  States 
not  more  than  four  per  cent.  This  is  true  of  Michigan ;  and  in 
Ohio,  we  do  not  think,  from  all  the  returns  we  can  gather,  that 
the  proportion  is  even  so  large  as  that.  The  agent  of  the  Amer- 
ican and  Foreign  Christian  Union  for  Indiana,  a  gentleman  of 
the  highest  respectability,  constantly  traveling  through  the 


HAPPY  RESULTS. 


241 


State — a  State  w^ere  we  have  placed  five  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven  children — testifies  that '  very  few  have  gone  back  to  New 
York/  and  that  'he  has  heard  of  no  one  who  has  committed 
criminal  offenses/ 

"  The  superintendent  of  the  Chicago  Reform  School,  one  of 
the  most  successful  and  experienced  men  in  this  country  in 
juvenile  reform,  states  that  his  institution  had  never  had  but 
three  of  our  children  committed  by  the  Illinois  State  Courts, 
though  we  have  sent  to  the  State  two  hundred  and  sixty-five, 
and  such  an  institution  is,  of  course,  the  place  where  criminal 
children  of  this  class  would  at  once  be  committed. 

"A  prominent  gentleman  residing  in  Battle  Creek,  Michigan, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  which  we  have  put  out  about  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty,  writes :  '  I  think  it  is  susceptible  of  proof  that 
no  equal  number  of  children  raised  here  are  superior  to  those 
you  have  placed  out/  Two  prominent  gentlemen  from  Pennsyl- 
vania, one  of  them  a  leading  judge  in  the  State,  write  that  they 
have  not  known  an  instance  of  one  of  our  children  being  impris- 
oned for  a  criminal  offense,  though  we  have  sent  four  hundred 
and  sixty-nine  to  this  State/' 

These  important  results  were  obtained  in  1859, 
with  but  four  or  five  thousand  children  settled  in  the 
West.  We  have  now  in  various  portions  of  our  coun- 
try between  twenty  and  tiventy-four  thousand  who  have 
been  placed  in  homes  or  provided  with  work. 

The  general  results  are  similar.  The  boys  and 
girls  who  were  sent  out  when  under  fourteen  are 
often  heard  from,  and  succeed  remarkably  well.  In 
hundreds  of  instances,  they  cannot  be  distinguished 
from  the  young  men  and  women  natives  in  the  vil- 
lages. Large  numbers  have  farms  of  their  own,  and 
are  prospering  reasonably  well  in  the  world.  Some 

are  in  the  professions,  some  are  mechanics  or  shop- 
11 


242    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


keepers;  the  girls  are  generally  well  married.  Quite 
a  number  have  sent  donations  to  the  Society,  and 
some  have  again  in  their  turn  brought  up  poor  chil- 
dren. It  was  estimated  that  more  than  a  thousand 
were  in  the  national  army  in  the  civil  war.  With  them 
the  experiment  of  "  Emigration 79  has  been  an  un- 
mingled  blessing.  With  the  larger  boys,  as  we  stated 
before,  exact  results  are  more  difficult  to  attain,  as 
they  leave  their  places  frequently.  Some  few  seem  to 
drift  into  the  Western  cities,  and  take  up  street-trades 
again.  Yery  few,  indeed,  get  back  to  New  York. 
The  great  mass  become  honest  producers  on  the  West- 
ern soil  instead  of  burdens  or  pests  here,  and  are 
absorbed  into  that  active,  busy  population ;  not  prob- 
ably becoming  saints-on-earth,  but  not  certainly  prey- 
ing on  the  community,  or  living  idlers  on  the  alms  of 
the  public.  Many  we  know  who  have  also  led  out 
their  whole  family  from  the  house  of  poverty  here, 
and  have  made  the  last  years  of  an  old  father  or 
mother  easier  and  more  comfortable. 

The  immense,  practically  unlimited  demand  by 
;  Western  communities  for  the  services  of  these  chil- 
dren shows  that  the  first-comers  have  at  least  done 
moderately  well,  especially  as  every  case  of  crime  is 
bruited  over  a  wide  country-side,  and  stamps  the 
whole  company  sent  with  disgrace.  These  cases  we 
always  hear  of.  The  lives  of  poor  children  in  these 
homes  seem  like  the  annals  of  great  States  in  this,  that, 


THE  STREET  BOY  ON  it-^AKM. 
(A  year  later.) 
No.  2. 


NO  INDENTURE. 


243 


when  they  make  no  report  and  pass  in  silence,  then 
we  may  be  sure  happiness  and  virtue  are  the  rule. 
When  they  make  a  noise,  crime  and  misery  prevail. 
Twenty  years7  virtuous  life  in  a  street-boy  makes  no 
impression  on  the  public.  A  single  offense  is  heard 
for  hundreds  of  miles.  A  theft  of  one  lad  is  imputed 
to  scores  of  others  about  him. 

The  children  are  not  indentured,  but  are  free  to 
leave,  if  ill-treated  or  dissatisfied;  and  the  farmers 
can  dismiss  them,  if  they  find  them  useless  or  other- 
wise unsuitable. 

This  apparently  loose  arrangement  has  worked 
well,  and  put  both  sides  on  their  good  behavior.  We 
have  seldom  had  any  cases  brought  to  our  attention 
of  ill-treatment.  The  main  complaint  is,  that  the 
older  lads  change  places  often.  This  is  an  unavoid- 
able result  of  a  prosperous  condition  of  the  laboring 
classes.  The  employers,  however,  are  ingenious,  and 
succeed  often,  by  little  presents  of  a  calf,  or  pony,  or 
lamb,  or  a  small  piece  of  land,  in  giving  the  child  a 
permanent  interest  in  the  family  and  the  farm. 

On  the  whole,  if  the  warm  discussion  between  the 
"  Asylum-interest "  and  the  "  Emigration-party  "  were 
ever  renewed,  probably  both  would  agree  (if  they 
were  candid)  that  their  opponents'  plan  had  virtues 
which  they  did  not  then  see.  There  are  some  children 
so  perverse,  and  inheriting  such  bad  tendencies,  and 
so  stamped  with  the  traits  of  a  vagabond  life,  that  a 


244    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Beforiaatory  is  the  best  place  for  them.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  majority  of  orphan,  deserted,  and  neglected 
boys  and  girls  are  far  better  in  a  country  home.  The 
Asylum  has  its  great  dangers,  and  is  very  expensive. 
The  Emigration-plan  must  be  conducted  with  careful 
judgment,  and  applied,  so  far  as  is  practicable,  to 
children  under,  say,  the  age  of  fourteen  years.  Both 
plans  have  defects,  but,  of  the  two,  the  latter  seems  to 
us  still  to  do  the  most  good  at  the  least  cost. 

A  great  obstacle  in  our  own  particular  experience 
was,  as  was  stated  before,  the  superstitious  opposition 
of  the  poor.  This  is  undoubtedly  cultivated  by  the 
priests,  who  seem  seldom  gifted  with  the  broad  spirit 
of  humanity  of  their  brethren  in  Europe.  They  ap- 
parently desire  to  keep  the  miserable  masses  here 
under  their  personal  influence. 

Our  action,  however,  in  regard  to  these  waifs,  has 
always  been  fair  and  open.  We  know  no  sect  or  race. 
Both  Catholic  and  Protestant  homes  were  offered 
freely  to  the  children.  No  child's  creed  was  interfered 
with.  On  the  committees  themselves  in  the  Western 
villages  have  frequently  been  Eoman  Catholics.  Not- 
withstanding this,  the  cry  of  "  proselytizing ??  is  still 
kept  up  among  the  guides  of  the  poor  against  this 
most  humane  scheme,  and  continually  checks  our  in- 
fluence for  good  with  the  younger  children,  and  ulti- 
mately will  probably  diminish  to  a  great  degree  the 
useful  results  we  might  accomplish  in  this  direction. 


A  CURE  FOR  PAUPERISM. 


245 


The  experience  we  have  thus  had  for  twenty  years 
in  transferring  such  masses  of  poor  children  to  rural 
districts  is  very  instructive  on  the  general  subject  of 
"  Emigration  as  a  cure  for  Pauperism." 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 


RESULTS  AND  FACTS  OF  EMIGRATION  TO  THE  WEST. 
OUR  FIRST  EMIGRANT  PARTY.    (FROM  OUR  JOURNAL.) 

BY  A  VISITOR. 

"  On  Wednesday  evening,  with  emigrant  *  tickets  to  Detroit, 
we  started  on  the  Isaac  Newton  for  Albany.  Nine  of  our  company, 
who  missed  the  boat,  were  sent  np  by  the  morning  cars,  and 
joined  us  in  Albany,  making  forty-six  boys  and  girls  from  New 
York,  bound  westward,  and,  to  them,  homeward.  They  were 
between  the  ages  of  seven  and  fifteen — most  of  them  from  ten 
to  twelve.  The  majority  of  them  orphans,  dressed  in  uniform 
— as  bright,  sharp,  bold,  racy  a  crowd  of  little  fellows  as  can  be 
grown  nowhere  out  of  the  streets  of  New  York.  The  other  ten 
were  from  New  York  at  large— no  number  or  street  in  particu- 
lar. Two  of  these  had  slept  in  nearly  all  the  station-houses  in 
the  city.  One,  a  keen-eyed  American  boy,  was  born  in  Chicago 
— an  orphan  now,  and  abandoned  in  New  York  by  an  intemper- 
ate brother.  Another,  a  little  German  Jew,  who  had  been  en- 
tirely friendless  for  four  years,  and  had  finally  found  his  way 
into  the  Newsboys'  Lodging-house.  Dick  and  Jack  were  broth- 
ers of  Sarah  O  -,  whom  we  sent  to  Connecticut.  Their 

father  is  intemperate  •  mother  died  at  Bellevue  Hospital  three 
weeks  since;  and  an  older  brother  has  just  been  sentenced  to 
Sing  Sing  Prison.  Their  father,  a  very  sensible  man  when 
sober,  begged  me  to  take  the  boys  along, '  for  I  am  sure,  sir,  if 
left  in  New  York,  they  will  come  to  the  same  bad  end  as  their 
brother/  We  took  them  to  a  shoe-shop.  Little  Jack  made 
awkward  work  in  trying  on  a  pair.  'He  don't  know  them,  sir; 
there's  not  been  a  cover  to  his  feet  for  three  winters/ 

*  Since  this  first  experience,  we  have  always  sent  our  children  by  regular 
trains,  in  decent  style. 


GOING  TO  MICHIGAN. 


247 


" Another  of  the  ten,  whom  the  boys  call  'Liverpool/  defies 
description.  Mr.  Gerry  found  him  in  the  Fourth  Ward,  a  few 
hours  before  we  left.  Really  only  twelve  years  old,  but  in  dress 
a  seedy  loafer  of  forty.  His  boots,  and  coat,  and  pants  would 
have  held  two  such  boys  easily — filthy  and  ragged  to  the  last 
thread.  Under  Mr.  Tracy's  hands,  at  the  Lodging-house, '  Liv- 
erpool '  was  soon  remodeled  into  a  boy  again ;  and  when  he 
came  on  board  the  boat  with  his  new  suit,  I  did  not  know  him. 
His  story  interested  us  all,  and  was  told  with  a  quiet,  sad  reserve, 
that  made  us  believe  him  truthful.  A  friendless  orphan  in  the 
streets  of  Liverpool,  he  heard  of  America,  and  determined  to 
come,  and  after  long  search  found  a  captain  who  shipped  him  as 
cabin-boy.  Landed  in  New  York, '  Liverpool '  found  his  street 
condition  somewhat  bettered.  Here  he  got  occasional  odd  jobs 
about  the  docks,  found  a  pretty  tight  box  to  sleep  in,  and  now 
and  then  the  sailors  gave  him  a  cast-off  garment,  which  he 
wrapped  and  tied  about  him,  till  he  looked  like  a  walking  rag- 
bundle  when  Mr.  G.  found  him. 

"As  we  steamed  off  from  the  wharf,  the  boys  gave  three 
cheers  for  New  York,  and  three  more  for  'Michigan/  All 
seemed  as  careless  at  leaving  home  forever,  as  if  they  were  *on 
a  target  excursion  to  Hoboken. 

"  We  had  a  steerage  passage,  and  after  the  cracker-box  and  gin- 
ger-bread had  passed  around,  the  boys  sat  down  in  the  gang-way 
and  began  to  sing.  Their  full  chorus  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  passengers,  who  gathered  about,  and  soon  the  captain  sent 
for  us  to  come  to  the  upper  saloon.  There  the  boys  sang  and 
talked,  each  one  telling  his  own  story  separately,  as  he  was 
taken  aside,  till  ten  o'clock,*  when  Captain  S.  gave  them  all 
berths  in  the  cabin ;  meanwhile,  a  lady  from  Rochester  had 
selected  a  little  boy  for  her  sister,  and  Mr.  B.,  a  merchant  from 
Illinois,  had  made  arrangements  to  take  'Liverpool'  for  his 
store.  I  afterwards  met  Mr.  B.  in  Buffalo,  and  he  said  he  would 
not  part  with  the  boy  for  any  consideration;  and  I  thought 
s  then  that  to  take  such  a  boy  from  such  a  condition,  and  put 
him  into  such  hands,  was  worth  the  whole  trip. 

"  At  Albany  we  found  the  emigrant  train  did  not  go  out  till 
noon,  and  it  became  a  question  what  to  do  with  the  children  for 
the  intervening  six  hours.  There  was  danger  that  Albany  street- 


248     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


boys  might  entice  them  off,  or  that  some  might  be  tired  of  the 
journey,  and  hide  away,  in  order  to  return.  When  they  were 
gathered  on  the  wharf,  we  told  them  that  we  were  going  to 
Michigan,  and  if  any  of  them  would  like  to  go  along,  they  must 
be  on  hand  for  the  cars.  This  was  enough.  They  hardly  ven- 
tured out  of  sight.  The  Albany  boys  tried  hard  to  coax  some  of 
them  away ;  but  ours  turned  the  tables  upon  them,  told  them 
of  Michigan,  and  when  we  were  about  ready  to  start,  several  of 
them  came  up  bringing  a  stranger  with  them.  There  was  no 
mistaking  the  long,  thick,  matted  hair,  unwashed  face,  the 
badger  coat,  and  double  pants  flowing  in  the  wind — a  regular 
' snoozer.' 

" '  Here's  a  boy  what  wants  to  go  to  Michi^Ti,  sir ;  can't  you 
take  him  with  us  ?  '  ■ 

"'But,  do  you  know  him?  Can  you  recommend  him  as  a 
suitable  boy  to  belong  to  our  company ! '  No ;  they  didn't  know 
his  name  even.  '  Only  he's  as  hard-up  as  any  of  us.  He's  no 
father  or  mother,  and  nobody  to  live  with,  and  he  sleeps  out  o' 
nights.'  The  boy  pleads  for  himself.  He  would  like  to  go  and 
be  a  farmer — and  to  live  in  the  country — will  go  anywhere  I 
send  him — and  do  well  if  he  can  have  the  chance. 

"  Our  number  is  full — purse  scant — it  may  be  difficult  to  find 
him  a  home.  But  there  is  no  resisting  the  appeal  of  the  boys, 
and  the  importunate  face  of  the  young  vagrant.  Perhaps  he 
will  do  well;  at  any  rate,  we  must  try  him.  If  left  to  float  here 
a  few  months  longer,  his  end  is  certain.  '  Do  you  think  I  can 
go,  sir?'  fYes,  John,  if  you  will  have  your  face  washed  and 
hair  combed  within  half  an  hour.'  Under  a  brisk  scrubbing,  his 
face  lights  up  several  shades;  but  the  twisted,  tangled  hair, 
matted  for  years,  will  not  yield  to  any  amount  of  washing  and 
pulling — barbers'  shears  are  the  only  remedy. 

"  So  a  new  volunteer  is  added  to  our  regiment.  Here  is  his 
enrollment : — 

"'John  ,  American — Protestant — 13  years^Orphan — Par- 
ents died  in  B  ,  Maine— A  "snoozer '''  for  four  years— Most  of  the 

time  in  New  York,  with  an  occasional  visit  to  Albany  and  Troy, 
"when  times  go  hard" — Intelligent — Black,  sharp  eye — Hopeful' 

"As  we  marched,  two  deep,  round  the  State  House  to  the 
depot,  John  received  many  a  recognition  from  the  'outsiders/ 


EMIGRANT  CARS. 


249 


among  whom  he  seems  to  be  a  general  favorite,  and  they  call 
out  after  him,  '  Good-by,  Smack/  with  a  half-sad,  half-sly  nod, 
as  if  in  doubt  whether  he  was  playing  some  new  game,  or  were 
really  going  to  leave  them  and  try  an  honest  life. 

"  At  the  depot  we  worked  our  way  through  the  Babel  of  at 
least  one  thousand  Germans,  Irish,  Italians,  and  Norwegians,  with 
whom  nothing  goes  right ;  every  one  insists  that  he  is  in  the 
wrong  car — that  his  baggage  has  received  the  wrong  mark — that 
Chicago  is  in  this  direction,  and  the  cars  are  on  the  wrong  track; 
in  short,  they  are  agreed  upon  nothing  except  in  the  opinion 
that  this  is  a  '  bad  counthry,  and  it's  good  luck  to  the  soul  who 
sees  the  end  on't.'  The  conductor,  a  red-faced,  middle-aged 
man,  promises  to  give  us  a  separate  car ;  but,  while  he  whispers 
and  negotiates  with  two  Dutch  girls,  who  are  traveling  without 
a  protector,  the  motley  mass  rush  into  the  cars,  and  we  are  finally 
pushed  into  one  already  full — some  standing,  a  part  sitting  in 
laps,  and  some  on  the  floor  under  the  benches — crowded  to  suf- 
focation, in  a  freight-car  without  windows — rough  benches  for 
seats,  and  no  back — no  ventilation  except  through  the  sliding- 
doors,  where  the  little  chaps  are  in  constant  danger  of  falling 
through.  There  were  scenes  that  afternoon  and  night  which  it 
would  not  do  to  reveal.  Irishmen  passed  around  bad  whisky 
and  sang  bawdy  songs ;  Dutch  men  and  women  smoked  and 
sang,  and  grunted  and  cursed ;  babies  squalled  and  nursed,  and 
left  no  baby  duties  undone. 

"  Night  came  on,  and  we  were  told  that '  passengers  furnish 
their  own  lights ! '  For  this  we  were  unprepared,  and  so  we 
tried  to  endure  darkness,  which  never  before  seemed  half  so 
thick  as  in  that  stifled  car,  though  it  was  relieved  here  and 
and  there  for  a  few  minutes  by  a  lighted  pipe.  One  Dutchman 
in  the  corner  kept  up  a  constant  fire ;  and  when  we  told  him  we 
were  choking  with  smoke,  he  only  answered  with  a  complacent 
grunt  and  a  fresh  supply  of  the  weed.  The  fellow  seemed  to 
puff  when  he  was  fairly  asleep,  and  the  curls  were  lifting 
beautifully  above  the  bowl,  when  smash  against  the  car  went 
the  pipe  in  a  dozen  pieces  !  No  one  knew  the  cause,  except, 
perhaps,  the  boy  behind  me,  who  had  begged  an  apple  a  few 
minutes  before. 

"  At  Utica  we  dropped  our  fellow-passengers  from  Germany, 


250    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


and,  thus  partially  relieved,  spent  the  rest  of  the  night  in  toler- 
able comfort. 

"  In  the  morning,  we  were  in  the  vicinity  of  Rochester,  and 
you  can  hardly  imagine  the  delight  of  the  children  as  they 
looked,  many  of  them  for  the  first  time,  upon  country  scenery. 
Each  one  must  see  everything  we  passed,  find  its  name,  and 
make  his  own  comments.  '  What's  that,  mister  ? '  '  A  corn- 
field/ f  Oh,  yes  ;  them's  what  makes  buckwheaters.'  '  Look  at 
them  cows  (oxen  plowing) ;  my  mother  used  to  milk  cows/  As 
we  whirled  through  orchards  loaded  with  large,  red  apples, 
their  enthusiasm  rose  to  the  highest  pitch.  It  was  difficult  to 
keep  them  within  doors.  Arms  stretched  out,  hats  swinging, 
eyes  swimming,  mouths  watering,  and  all  screaming — '  Oh  !  oh  ! 
just  look  at  'em  !  Mister,  be  they  any  sich  in  Michi<7<m  f  Then 
I'm  in  for  that  place — three  cheers  for  ~M.ich.igan  !  '  We  had  been 
riding  in  comparative  quiet  for  nearly  an  hour,  when  all  at  once 
the  greatest  excitement  broke  out.  We  were  passing  a  corn- 
field spread  over  with  ripe  yellow  pumpkins.  '  Oh  !  yonder ! 
look  !  Just  look  at  'em  ! '  and  in  an  instant  the  same  exclamation 
was  echoed  from  forty-seven  mouths.  '  Jist  look  at  'em  !  What 
a  neap  of  mushmillons  !  '  '  Mister,  do  they  make  mushmillons 
in  Michigan?'  '  Ah,  fellers,  aint  that  the  country  tho' — won't 
we  have  nice  things  to  eat?  '  '  Yes, and  won't  we  sell  some,  too?' 
*  Hip  !  hip !  boys  ;  three  cheers  for  Michigan  !  ' 

"  At  Buffalo  we  received  great  kindness  from  Mr.  Harrison, 
the  freight-agent  and  this  was  by  no  means  his  first  service  to 
the  Children's  Aid  Society.  Several  boys  and  girls  whom  we 
have  sent  West  have  received  the  kindest  attention  at  his  hands. 
I  am  sure  Mr.  H.'s  fireside  must  be  a  happy  spot.  Also  Mr. 
Noble,  agent  for  the  Mich.  C.  R.  R.,  gave  me  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction, which  was  of  great  service  on  the  way. 

"  We  were  in  Buffalo  nine  hours,  and  the  boys  had  the  liberty 
of  the  town,  but  were  all  on  board  the  boat  in  season.  We  went 
down  to  our  place,  the  steerage  cabin,  and  no  one  but  an  emi- 
grant on  a  lake-boat  can  understand  the  night  we  spent.  The 
berths  are  covered  with  a  coarse  mattress,  used  by  a  thousand 
different  passengers,  and  never  changed  till  they  are  filled  with 
stench  and  vermin.  The  emigrants  spend  the  night  in  washing, 
smoking,  drinking,  singing,  sleep,  and  licentiousness.    It  was 


THE  ARRIVAL. 


251 


the  last  night  in  the  freight-car  repeated,  with  the  addition  of  a 
touch  of  sea-sickness,  and  of  the  stamping,  neighing,  and  bleat- 
ing of  a  hundred  horses  and  sheep  over  our  heads,  and  the 
effluvia  of  their  filth  pouring  through  the  open  gangway.  But 
we  survived  the  night ;  how  had  better  not  be  detailed.  In  the 
morning  we  got  outside  upon  the  boxes,  and  enjoyed  the  beautiful 
day.  The  boys  were  in  good  spirits,  sung  songs,  told  New  York 
yarns,  and  made  friends  generally  among  the  passengers.  Occa- 
sionally, some  one  more  knowing  than  wise  would  attempt  to 
poke  fun  at  them,  whereupon  the  boys  would  '  pitch  in/  and 
open  such  a  sluice  of  Bowery  slang  as  made  Mr.  Would-be-funny 
beat  a  retreat  in  double-quick  time.  No  one  attempted  that 
game  twice.  During  the  day  the  clerk  discovered  that  three 
baskets  of  peaches  were  missing,  all  except  the  baskets.  None 
of  the  boys  had  been  detected  with  the  fruit,  but  I  afterwards 
found  they  had  eaten  it. 

"  Landed  in  Detroit  at  ten  o'clock,  Saturday  night,  and  took  a 

first-class  passenger-car  on  Mich.  C.  R.  R.,  and  reached  D  c, 

a  f  smart  little  town/  in  S.  W.  Michigan,  three  o'clock  Sunday 
morning.  The  depot-master,  who  seldom  receives  more  than 
three  passengers  from  a  train,  was  utterly  confounded  at  the  crowd 
of  little  ones  poured  out  upon  the  platform,  and  at  first  refused 
to  let  us  stay  till  morning  ;  but,  after  a  deal  of  explanation,  he 
consented,  with  apparent  misgiving,  and  the  boys  spread  them- 
selves on  the  floor  to  sleep.  At  day-break  they  began  to 
inquire,  '  Where  be  we  ? '  and,  finding  that  they  were  really 
in  Michigan,  scattered  in  all  directions,  each  one  for  himself,  and 
in  less  than  five  minutes  there  was  not  a  boy  in  sight  of  the 
depot.  When  I  had  negotiated  for  our  stay  at  the  American 
House  (!)  and  had  breakfast  nearly  ready,  they  began  to  straggle 
back  from  every  quarter,  each  boy  loaded  down — caps,  shoes, 
coat-sleeves,  and  shirts  full  of  every  green  thing  they  could  lay 
hands  upon — apples,  ears  of  corn,  peaches,  pieces  of  pumpkins, 
etc.  '  Look  at  the  Michigan,  filberts  ! '  cried  a  little  fellow,  run- 
ning up,  holding  with  both  hands  upon  his  shirt  bosom,  which 
was  bursting  out  with  acorns.  Little  Mag  (and  she  is  one  of  the 
prettiest,  sweetest  little  things  you  ever  set  eyes  upon),  brought 
in  a  '  nosegay/  which  she  insisted  upon  sticking  in  my  coat — a 
mullen-stock  and  corn-leaf,  twisted  with  grass  ! 


252    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


"  Several  of  tlie  "boys  had  had  a  swim  in  the  creek,  though  it 
was  a  pretty  cold  morning.  At  the  breakfast-table  the  question 
was  discussed,  how  we  should  spend  the  Sabbath.  The  boys  evi- 
dently wanted  to  continue  their  explorations ;  but  when  asked 
if  it  would  not  be  best  to  go  to  church,  there  were  no  hands 
down,  and  some  proposed  to  go  to  Sunday  School,  and  '  boys' 
meeting,  too/ 

"  The  children  had  clean  and  happy  faces,  but  no  change  of 
clothes,  and  those  they  wore  were  badly  soiled  and  torn  by  the 
emigrant  passage.  You  can  imagine  the  appearance  of  our' 
'ragged  regiment,'  as  we  filed  into  the  Presbyterian  church 
(which,  by  the  way,  was  a  school-house),  and  appropriated  our 
full  share  of  the  seats.  The  ' natives'  could  not  be  satisfied 
with  staring,  as  they  came  to  the  door  and  filled  up  the  vacant 
part  of  the  house.  The  pastor  was  late,  and  we  '  occupied  the 
time'  in  singing.  Those  sweet  Sabbath  School  songs  never 
sounded  so  sweetly  before.  Their  favorite  hymn  was,  '  Come, 
ye  sinners,  poor  and  needy/  and  they  rolled  it  out  with  a  relish. 
It  was  a  touching  sight,  and  pocket-handkerchiefs  were  used 
quite  freely  among  the  audience. 

"  At  the  close  of  the  sermon  the  people  were  informed  of  the 
object  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society.  It  met  with  the  cordial 
approbation  of  all  present,  and  several  promised  to  take  chil- 
dren. I  was  announced  to  preach  in  the  afternoon ;  but,  on  return- 
ing to  the  tavern,  I  found  that  my  smallest  boy  had  been  missing 
since  day-break,  and  that  he  was  last  seen  upon  the  high  bridge 
over  the  creek,  a  little  out  of  the  village.  So  we  spent  the 
afternoon  in  hunting,  instead  of  going  to  church.  (Not  an  un- 
common practice  here,  by  the  way.) 

"  We  dove  in  the  creek  and  searched  through  the  woods,  but 
little  George  (six  years  old)  was  not  to  be  found  ;  and  when  the 
boys  came  home  to  supper  there  was  a  shade  of  sadness  on  their 
faces,  and  they  spoke  in  softer  tones  of  the  lost  playmate.  But 
the  saddest  was  George's  brother,  one  year  older.  They  were 
two  orphans — all  alone  in  the  world.  Peter  stood  up  at  the 
table,  but  when  he  saw  his  brother's  place  at  his  side  vacant,  he 
burst  out  in  uncontrollable  sobbing.  After  supper  he  seemed  to 
forget  his  loss,  till  he  lay  down  on  the  floor  at  night,  and  there 
was  the  vacant  spot  again,  and  his  little  heart  flowed  over  with 


FIRST  TRIAL  AS  FARMERS. 


253 


grief.  Just  so  again  when  he  awoke  in  the  morning,  and  at 
breakfast  and  dinner.  • 

"  Monday  morning  the  boys  held  themselves  in  readiness  to 
receive  applications  from  the  farmers.  They  would  watch  at 
all  directions,  scanning  closely  every  wagon  that  came  in  sight, 
and  deciding  from  the  appearance  of  the  driver  and  the  horses, 
more  often  from  the  latter,  whether  they  '  would  go  in  for  that 
farmer/ 

"  There  seems  to  be  a  general  dearth  of  boys,  and  still  greater 
of  girls,  in  all  this  section,  and  before  night  I  had  applications 
for  fifteen  of  my  children,  the  applicants  bringing  recommenda- 
tions from  their  pastor  and  the  j  ustice  of  peace. 

"  There  was  a  rivalry  among  the  boys  to  see  which  first 
could  get  a  home  in  the  country,  and  before  Saturday  they  were 
all  gone.  Rev.  Mr.  O.  took  several  home  with  him  ;  and  nine  of 
the  smallest  I  accompanied  to  Chicago,  and  sent  to  Mr.  Town- 
send,  Iowa  City.  Nearly  all  the  others  found  homes  in  Cass 
County,  and  I  had  a  dozen  applications  for  more.  A  few  of  the 
boys  are  bound  to  trades,  but  the  most  insisted  upon  being 
farmers,  and  learning  to  drive  horses.  They  are  to  receive  a 
good  common-school  education,  and  one  hundred  dollars  when 
twenty-one.  I  have  great  hopes  for  the  majority  of  them. 
'  Mag '  is  adopted  by  a  wealthy  Christian  farmer.  '  Smack/  the 
privateer  from  Albany,  has  a  good  home  in  a  Quaker  settle- 
ment. The  two  brothers,  Dick  and  Jack,  were  taken  by  an  ex- 
cellent man  and  his  son,  living  on  adjacent  farms  The  Gferman 
boy  from  the  '  Lodging-house '  lives  with  a  physician  in  D  . 

"  Several  of  the  boys  came  in  to  see  me,  and  tell  their  experi- 
ence in  learning  to  farm.  One  of  them  was  sure  he  knew 
how  to  milk,  and  being  furnished  with  a  pail,  was  told  to  take 
his  choice  of  the  cows  in  the  yard.  He  sprang  for  a  two-year- 
old  steer,  caught  him  by  the  horns,  and  called  for  a  tf  line  to  make 
him  fast/  None  seemed  discontented  but  one,  who  ran  away 
from  a  tinner,  because  he  wanted  to  be  a  farmer. 

"  But  I  must  tell  you  of  the  lost  boy.  No  tidings  were  heard 
of  him  up  to  Monday  noon,  when  the  citizens  rallied  and  scoured 
the  woods  for  miles  around ;  but  the  search  was  fruitless,  and 
Peter  lay  down  that  night  sobbing,  and  with  his  arms  stretched 
out,  just  as  he  used  to  throw  them  round  his  brother. 


254    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


"  About  ten  o'clock  a  man  knocked  at  the  door,  and  cried  out, 
'  Here  is  the  lost  boy  ! '  Peter  heard  him,  and  the  two  brothers 
met  on  the  stairs,  and  before  we  could  ask  where  he  had  been, 
Peter  had  George  in  his  place  by  his  side  on  the  floor.  They 
have  gone  to  live  together  in  Iowa. 

"  On  the  whole,  the  first  experiment  of  sending  children  West 
is  a  very  happy  one,  and  I  am  sure  there  are  places  enough  with 
good  families  in  Michigan,  Illinois,  Iowa,  and  Wisconsin,  to  give 
every  poor  boy  and  girl  in  New  York  a  permanent  home.  The 
only  difficulty  is  to  bring  the  children  to  the  homes. 

"  E.  P.  Smith," 


A  LATER  PARTY  TO  THE  WEST. 

" '  January,  1868. 
" '  Dear  Sir — It  will,  perhaps,  be  interesting  for  you  to 
know  some  facts  connected  with  the  disposal  of  my  party  at  the 
West.  We  numbered  thirty-two  in  all :  two  babies — one  a  fine 
little  fellow  one  year  old,  and  the  other  twenty-one  years  old, 
but,  nevertheless,  the  greatest  babe  in  the  company.  Just  be- 
fore I  reached  Chicago,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  my  party 
numbered  only  about  twenty,  instead  of  thirty-two.  I  went 
into  the  forward  car-    You  may  imagine  my  surprise  to  find  my 

large  babe,  W  D  ,  playing  upon  a  concertina,  and  M  

H  ,  alias  M  B  ,  footing  it  down  as  only  a  clog-dancer, 

and  one  well  acquainted  with  his  business  at  that,  could  do, 
while  eight  or  ten  boys,  and  perhaps  as  many  brakesmen  and 
baggagemen,  stood  looking  on,  evidently  greatly  amused.  It 
was  plain  to  see  that  I  was  an  unwelcome  visitor.  Order  was 
at  once  restored,  and  the  boys  went  back  and  took  their  seats. 

As  we  neared  A  ,  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  L  came  to 

me,  and,  after  making  some  inquiries,  said  :  "  I  wish  you  would 

let  me  take  that  boy/'  pointing  to  G  A  ,  a  little  fellow 

about  eight  years  old.  I  told  him  we  never  allowed  a  child  to 
go  to  a  home  from  the  train,  as  we  had  a  committee  appointed 
in  A  ,  to  whom  application  must  be  made.  I  promised,  how- 
ever, that  I  would  keep  the  boy  for  him  until  Monday  and  if  he 
came,  bringing  satisfactory  recommendations,  he  should  have 
him.    He  said  if  money  was  any  inducement,  he  would  give  me 


"THE  BABE'S 79  CONCERT. 


255 


thousand  dollars  would  not  be  an  inducement  without  the 
recommendation.  The  little  fellow  was  really  the  most  remark- 
ble  child  I  ever  saw,  so  amiable  and  intelligent,  and  yet  so  good- 
looking.   When  I  reached  A  ,  I  had  not  been  out  of  the  cars 

five  minutes  when  a  gentleman  went  to  G  ,  and  placing  his 

hand  on  his  shoulder,  said,  "  This  is  the  little  man  I  want."  I 
told  him  he  had  been  engaged  already.  We  passed  through  the 
crowd  at  the  depot,  and  finally  reached  the  hotel.    We  had  been 

there  but  a  short  time  when  I  had  another  application  for  Gt  . 

The  first  applicant  came  up  also,  and  asserted  his  claim ;  said 

that,  if  L  did  not  come  and  get  the  boy,  he  had  the  first 

right  to  him.    L  did  not  come,  and  I  had  some  difficulty  to 

settle  the  matter  between  the  two  applicants.  Didn't  know  but 
I  should  have  to  resort  to  Solomon's  plan,  and  divide  the  boy, 
but  determined  to  let  him  go  to  the  best  home. 

" '  Matters  went  off  very  pleasantly  the  first  day.  I  found 
good  homes  for  some  ten  or  twelve  boys  ;  but,  in  the  evening,  I 
missed  the  boys  from  the  hotel,  and,  in  looking  for  them,  was 
attracted  to  a  saloon  by  the  dulcet  tones  of  my  babe's  concertina, 

and  entered.    D         was  playing,  and  two  of  the  boys  were 

delighting  the  audience  with  a  comic  Irish  song.  All  the  row- 
dies and  rum-drinkers  in  the  town  seemed  to  have  turned  out  to 
meet  them.  I  stepped  inside  of  the  door,  and,  with  arms  folded, 
stood  looking  very  intently  at  them,  without  uttering  a  word. 
First  the  music  ceased,  then  the  singing,  and  one  by  one  the 
boys  slunk  out  of  the  room,  until  I  was  left  alone  with  the  rab- 
ble. It  was  rather  amusing  to  hear  their  exclamations  of  sur- 
prise. "Halloo!  what's  up?"  "  What's  broke  loose  now?"  I 
went  to  the  hotel,  found  the  boys  there,  and  a  more  humble  set 
I  never  saw.  I  gave  them  a  lecture  about  a  yard  long,  and  pro- 
fessed to  feel  very  much  hurt  at  the  idea  of  finding  a  boy  who 
came  out  with  me,  in  a  rum-shop.  I  gave  them  to  understand 
what  I  should  expect  of  them  in  future,  and  ended  by  having 
the  door  opened  and  extending  an  invitation  to  leave  to  those 
boys  who  thought  they  could  do  better  for  themselves  than  I 
should  do  for  them.  As  no  disposition  to  leave  manifested 
itself,  I  then  put  the  question  to  vote  whether  they  would 
remain  with  me  and  do  just  as  I  wished,  or  go  and  look  out  for 
themselves.    Every  hand  went  up,  and  some  of  the  boys  ex- 


256    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


twenty-five  dollars  if  I  would  let  him  have  the  boy.    I  said  five 

pressed  themselves  very  sorry  for  what  they  had  done.  W  

D  left  a  day  or  two  after,  taking  the  concertina  with  him, 

which  I  afterward  learned  belonged  to  another  boy.  The  most 
of  my  trouble  seemed  to  take  wing  and  fly  away  with  him.  He 
was  the  scapegoat  of  the  party. 

"'Illinois  is  a  beautiful  farming  country.  All  the  farmers 
seem  to  be  wealthy.  The  large  boys,  with  two  exceptions,  were 
placed  upon  farms.  Quite  a  number  of  boys  came  back  to  the 
hotel  to  say  good-by,  and  thank  me  for  bringing  them  out.  I 
will  note  a  few  of  the  most  interesting  cases  :  John  Mahoney, 

age  16,  with  Mr.  J  T  (farmer)  ;  came  in  town  Sunday  to 

show  me  a  fine  mule  his  employer  had  given  him.    J  0  , 

age  14,  went  with  Mrs.  D  ,  who  has  a  farm  ;  came  in  to  tell 

me  how  well  pleased  he  is  with  his  place  ;  says  he  will  work  the 

farm  as  soon  as  he  is  able,  and  get  half  the  profits.  D  

M  ,  age  17,  went  with  A         H.  B  (farmer) ;  came  back 

to  tell  me  his  employer  had  given  him  a  pig,  and  a  small  plot  of 

ground  to  work  for  himself.    J         S  ,  age  17,  went  with 

J  B  ;  saw  him  after  the  boy  had  been  with  him  three  or 

four  days  ;  he  likes  him  very  much,  and  has  given  him  a  Cana- 
dian pony,  with  saddle  and  bridle.  I  might  mention  other 
cases,  but  I  know  the  above  to  be  facts. 

"'The  boys  met  with  a  great  deal  of  sympathy.  One  old 
gentleman  came  in  just  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  a  little  boy 
who  had  lost  an  eye,  and  was  a  brother  to  a  boy  his  son  had 
taken.  When  I  told  the  little  fellow  that  the  gentleman  lived 
near  the  man  who  had  taken  his  brother,  he  climbed  up  on  his 
knee,  and  putting  his  arms  around  his  neck,  said :  "  I  want  to  go 
home  with  you,  and  be  your  boy ;  I  want  to  see  my  brother/' 
The  old  gentleman  wept,  and  wiping  the  tears  from  his  eyes, 
said :  "  This  is  more  than  I  can  stand ;  I  will  take  this  boy  home 
with  me."  He  is  a  wealthy  farmer  and  a  good  man,  and  I  am 
sure  will  love  the  little  fellow  very  much,  for  he  is  a  very  inter- 
esting child.  Yours, 

" '  C.  R.  Fry/  " 


"  This  letter  is  from  a  farmer — a  deaf-mute — who  has  a  desti- 
tute deaf-mute  lad  placed  with  him : — 


A  DEAF-MUTE. 


257 


"  '  C  H  ,  Ind.,  March  5, 1860. 

" e  My  Dear  Sir — I  received  your  kind  letter  some  days  ago. 
It  has  given  me  great  pleasure  to  hear  that  you  had  arrived  at 
your  home.    I  got  a  report  from  you.    The  first  of  the  time 

when  you  left  D  ,  he  cried  and  stamped  on  the  floor  by  the 

door,  but  I  took  him  to  show  him  the  horses  ;  I  told  him  when 
he  will  be  a  big  man  I  would  give  him  a  horse.  Then  he  quit 
crying,  and  he  began  to  learn  A,  B,  C,  on  that  day  when  you 

left  here.    Now  D  is  doing  very  well,  and  plays  the  most  of 

anything ;  he  likes  to  stay  here  very  well ;  he  can  learn  about 
dog  and  cat.  I  am  willing  to  take  care  of  him  over  twenty-one 
years  old,  if  he  stays  here  as  long  as  he  ever  gets  to  be  twenty- 
one  years  old ;  then  I  will  give  him  a  horse,  money,  clothes, 

school,  etc.    Last  Saturday,  D  rode  on  my  colt  himself ;  the 

colt  is  very  gentle  ;  on  advice,  he  got  off  the  colt ;  he  petted  the 
colt  the  most  of  time  ;  he  likes  to  play  with  the  young  colt.  He 
likes  to  stay  with  me,  and  he  said  he  don't  like  to  go  back  where 
you  are.  He  gathers  chips  and  fetches  wood  in  the  stove,  and 
is  willing  to  do  all  his  work  directly.  I  wonder  that  he  bold 
boy  and  mock  some  neighbors. 

" '  Yours  truly,  friend, 

" '  L.  F.  W. 

"  '  Write  a  letter  to  me  immediately  and  let  me  know.  He 
likes  to  go  about  with  me,  but  not  when  it  is  very  cold  ;  I  send 
him  to  stay  in  the  house,  out  of  the  cold.  When  it  is  warm  day, 
he  likes  to  go  about  with  me.  Sometimes  he  goes  to  town.  He 
pets  the  colt  every  day ;  sometimes  he  waters  the  colt  and  feed 
some  corn  himself  /  " 


THE  HUNGRY  BOY  IN"  A  HOME. 

"  In  our  first  Report  there  was  an  account  of  a  little  boy, 
whom  our  visitor,  Rev.  Mr.  Smith,  found  under  a  cart  in  the 
street,  gnawing  a  bone  which  he  had  picked  up  for  his  break- 
fast. He  had  a  good-natured  little  face,  and  a  fine,  dark  eye. 
Mr.  S.  felt  for  him,  and  said,  '  Where  do  you  live,  my  boy?' 


258    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


'  Don't  live  nowhere.'  '  But,  where  do  you  stay  ? '  He  said  a 
woman  had  taken  him  in,  in  Thirteenth  Street,  and  that  he  slept 
in  one  corner  of  her  room.  His  mother  had  left  him,  and  '  lived 
all  about,  doin'  washinV  Mr.  Smith  went  around  with  him  to 
the  place,  and  found  a  poor,  kind  woman,  who  had  only  a  bare 
room  and  just  enough  to  live,  and  yet  had  sheltered  and  fed  the 
wretched  little  creature.  '  She  was  the  poorest  creature  in  New 
York/  she  said,  '  but  somehow  everything  that  was  poor  always 
came  to  her,  and  while  God  gave  her  anything,  she  meant  to 
share  it  with  those  who  were  poorer  than  she/  The  boy  was 
sent  to  Pennsylvania,  and  the  following  is  the  letter  from  his 
mistress,  or  rather  friend,  to  the  poor  mother  here.  It  speaks 
for  itself.  May  God  bless  th£  kind  mother's  heart,  which  has 
taken  in  thus  the  outcast  child  ! 

"  '  H  ,  Penn.,  Dec.  3, 1855. 

"  '  Mr.  Q  :  I  have  but  a  moment  to  write  this  morning. 

You  wish  to  know  how  Johnny,  as  you  call  him,  gets  along. 
We  do  not  know  him  by  that  name.  Having  a  William  and  a 
John  before  he  came  here,  we  have  given  him  the  name  of  Fred- 
erick ;  he  is  generally  called  Freddy.  He  is  well,  and  has  been, 
since  I  last  wrote  to  you.  He  is  a  very  healthy  boy,  not  having 
been  sick  a  day  since  he  came  here.  His  feet  trouble  him  at 
times  very  much  ;  they  are  so  tender  that  he  is  obliged  to  wear 
stockings  and  shoes  all  the  year.  We  do  not  expect  his  feet  will 
ever  bear  the  cold,  as  they  were  so  badly  frozen  while  on  the 
way  from  the  city  here.  But  do  not  imagine  that  he  suffers 
much,  for  he  does  not.  When  his  boots  or  shoes  are  new,  he 
complains  a  good  deal ;  but  after  a  little  he  gets  along  without 
scarcely  noticing  it.  To-day  our  winter's  school  commences. 
Samuel,  Freddy,  and  Emily  will  attend  ;  and  I  hope  Freddy  will 
be  able  to  write  to  you  when  the  school  closes.  He  learns  to 
write  very  easy,  and  will,  with  little  pains,  make  a  good  pen- 
man. He  is  an  excellent  speller — scarcely  ever  spells'  a  word 
wrong — but  he  is  not  a  good  reader  ;  but  we  think  he  will  be,  as 
we  call  him  ambitious  and  persevering,  and  he  is  unwilling  to 
be  behind  boys  of  his  age.  Do  you  ask  if  he  is  a  good  boy  ?  I  can 
assure  you  he  has  the  name  of  a  good  boy  throughout  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  and  wherever  he  is  known,  his  kind,  obliging  manners 


THE  HOMELESS  IN  A  HOME. 


259 


make  him  many  friends.  Again,  do  you  inquire  if  he  is  beloved 
at  home  ?  I  will  unhesitatingly  say  that  we  surely  love  him  as 
our  own ;  and  we  have  had  visitors  here  for  a  number  of  days 
without  once  thinking  that  he  was  not  our  own  child. 

" '  I  wish  you  could  see  the  children  as  they  start  for  school 
this  morning.  Fred,  with  his  black  plush  cap,  green  tunic 
black  vest,  gray  pants,  striped  mittens,  and  his  new  comforter, 
which  he  bought  with  his  own  money.  Samuel  carries  the  din- 
ner-pail this  morning ;  it  is  filled  with  bread  and  butter,  apple 
pie,  and  gingerbread ;  and  Fred  has  his  slate,  reader,  spelling- 
book,  and  Testament — and  he  has  not  forgotten  to  go  down  to 
the  cellar  and  fill  his  pockets  with  apples. 

" '  I  am  not  very  well,  and  I  make  bad  work  of  writing.  I 
am  afraid  you  will  not  find  out  what  I  have  written. 

" '  Fred  often  speaks  of  you,  and  of  his  dear  sister  Jane.  He 
wants  you  to  tell  Mr.  Brace  how  you  get  along,  and  get  him  to 
write  to  us  all  about  it. 

" '  With  desire  for  your  welfare, 

"  '  I  subscribe  myself  your  friend, 

" '  Sally  L  /  " 

THE  PRISOK-BOY. 

"  The  boy  of  whom  this  is  written  was  taken  from  one  of  the 
City  Prisons : — 

"<H  ,  Oct.  12, 1855. 

" '  Dear  Sir — Yours,  making  inquiries  about  F.  C,  was  duly 
received.  His  health  has  been  generally  good  and  so  far  as  his 
behavior  is  concerned,  it  has  been  as  good  as  could  have  been 
expected  from  the  history  he  has  given  us  of  himself,  previous 
to  his  coming  to  live  with  us.  We  soon  learned  that  very  little 
dependence  could  be  placed  on  his  truthfulness  or  honesty ;  in 
fact,  he  was  a  fair  specimen  of  New  York  juvenile  vagrancy. 
He  has  wanted  a  close  supervision,  and  we  have  endeavored  to 
correct  what  was  wrong,  and  to  inculcate  better  things,  and,  we 
think,  with  some  success.  He  has  learned  to  read  and  spell  very 
well ;  besides  these,  he  has  attended  to  writing  and  arithmetic, 
and  has  made  some  improvement  in  them.  The  first  winter 
that  he  came  to  live  with  us,  we  did  not  think  it  best  to  send 


260    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


him  to  our  Public  School,  but  kept  him  under  our  own  personal 
instruction.  The  last  winter  he  attended  our  Public  School  five 
and  a  half  months.  He  has  been  in  our  Sabbath  School  from 
the  time  he  first  came,  and  has  usually  had  his  lessons  well. 
He  has,  from  the  first,  been  glad  to  attend  all  religious  meetings, 
and  we  think  that  his  moral  perception  of  things  has  much  im- 
proved, and  we  can  but  hope  that,  with  proper  attention,  he  may 
grow  up  to  be  a  useful  and  respectable  man.  He  seemed  quite 
satisfied  with  his  home. 

"  '  Yours,  most  respectfully, 

"eG.  S.  B/  " 


"  This,  again,  is  about  a  poor  friendless  little  girl,  sent  to  a 
good  family  in  old  Connecticut : — 

"  '  N  ,  Ct.,  Oct.  11, 1855. 

"  '  Mr.  Macy  : 

"  '  Dear  Sir — With  regard  to  Sarah,  I  would  say  that  she  is  a 
very  good  girl,  and  is  also  useful  to  us,  and,  I  think,  fitting  her- 
self to  be  useful  to  herself  at  a  future  day. 

"  '  She  has  now  been  with  us  about  two  and  a  half  years,  and 
has  become  a  part  of  our  family  ;  and  we  should  feel  very  sorry 
to  part  with  her.  She  attended  school  last  winter  at  the  N. 
Union  High  School,  which  affords  advantages  equal  to  any  school 
in  the  country.  She  made  much  improvement  in  her  studies, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  winter  term  a  public  examination  was 
held  at  the  school,  and  Mr.  B.,  the  Principal,  stated,  in  presence 
of  more  than  three  hundred  persons,  that  Sarah  Q.  lived  in  my 
family,  and  was  taken  by  me  from  the  "  Children's  Aid  Society," 
of  New  York ;  and  stated,  also,  that  when  she  commenced  to  go 
to  school,  she  was  unable  to  read  a  word,  and  wished  them  to 
notice  the  improvement  that  had  been  made  in  her  case.  The 
audience  seemed  to  be  surprised  that  she  had  been  able  to 
accomplish  so  much  in  so  short  a  time. 

"  '  She  also  attends  Sabbath  School  very  regularly,  and  gets 
her  lessons  very  perfectly,  and  appears  to  take  great  delight  in 
doing  so.  I  think  she  has  improved  in  many  respects.  She 
speaks,  occasionally  of  the  way  in  which  she  used  to  live  in 


A  WAIF  RECLAIMED. 


261 


New  York,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  she  was  treated  by  her 
parents,  when  they  were  alive,  and  says  she  can  never  be  thank- 
ful enough  to  the  kind  friends,  who,  being  connected  with  the 
Children's  Aid  Society,  sought  her  out,  and  provided  her  with  a 
comfortable  home  in  the  country,  far  removed  from  the  tempta- 
tions, and  vices,  and  miseries  of  a  city  like  New  York.  I  would 
say  that  she  has  not  been  to  school  the  past  summer,  and  tha« 
she  had  made  little  progress  in  penmanship  during  her  attend 
ance  last  winter,  and  that  she  is  not  now  able  to  write  you  her 
self,  but  I  think  will  be  able  to  do  so  when  you  wish  to  hear 
from  her  again. 

" 1  Respectfully  yours, 

"<Wm.  K.  L.'" 


FROM  THE  GUTTER  TO  THE  COLLEGE. 

"  Yale  College,  New  Haven,  Oct.  11,  1871. 
"  Rev.  C.  L.  Brace,  Secretary  Children's  Aid  Society : 

"  Dear  Sir — I  shall  endeavor  in  this  letter  to  give  you  a  brief 
sketch  of  my  life,  as  it  is  your  request  that  I  should. 

"  I  cannot  speak  of  my  parents  with  any  certainty  at  all.  I 

recollect  having  an  aunt  by  the  name  of  Julia  B  .  She  had 

me  in  charge  for  some  time,  and  made  known  some  things  to  me 
of  which  I  have  a  faint  remembrance.  She  married  a  gentleman 
in  Boston,  and  left  me  to  shift  for  myself  in  the  streets  of  your 
city.  I  could  not  have  been  more  than  seven  or  eight  years  of 
age  at  this  time.  She  is  greatly  to  be  excused  for  this  act,  since 
I  was  a  very  bad  boy,  having  an  abundance  of  self-will. 

"  At  this  period  I  became  a  vagrant,  roaming  over  all  parts  of 
the  city.  I  would  often  pick  up  a  meal  at  tie  markets  or  at  the 
docks,  where  they  were  unloading  fruit.  At  a  late  hour  in  the 
night  I  would  find  a  resting-place  in  some  box  or  hogshead,  or  in 
some  dark  hole  under  a  staircase. 

"  The  boys  that  I  fell  in  company  with  would  steal  and  swear, 
and  of  course  I  contracted  those  habits  too.  I  have  a  distinct 
recollection  of  stealing  up  upon  houses  to  tear  the  lead  from 
around  the  chimneys,  and  then  take  it  privily  away  to  some 


262    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


junk-shop,  as  they  call  it ;  with  the  proceeds  I  would  buy  a 
ticket  for  the  pit  in  the  Chatham-street  Theatre,  and  something 
to  eat  with  the  remainder.  This  is  the  manner  in  which  I  was 
drifting  out  in  the  stream  of  life,  when  some  kind  person  from 
your  Society  persuaded  me  to  go  to  Randall's  Island.  I  remained 
at  this  place  two  years.  Sometime  in  July,  1859,  one  of  your 
agents  came  there  and  asked  how  many  boys  who  had  no 
parents  would  love  to  have  nice  homes  in  the  West,  where 
they  could  drive  horses  and  oxen,  and  have  as  many  apples  and 
melons  as  they  should  wish.  I  happened  to  be  one  of  the  many 
who  responded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  On  the  4th  of  August  twenty-one  of  us  had  homes  procured 

for  tus  at  N  ,  Ind.    A  lawyer  from  T  ,  who  chanced 

to  be  engaged  in  court  matters,  was  at  N  at  the  time.  He 

desired  to  take  a  boy  home  with  him,  and  I  was  the  one  assigned 
him.  He  owns  a  farm  of  two  hundred  acres  lying  close  to  town. 
Care  was  taken  that  I  should  be  occupied  there  and  not  in  town. 
I  was  always  treated  as  one  of  the  family.  In  sickness  I  was 
ever  cared  for  by  prompt  attention.  In  winter  I  was  sent  to  the 
Public  School.  The  family  room  was  a  good  school  to  me,  for 
there  I  found  the  daily  papers  and  a  fair  library. 

"  After  a  period  of  several  years  I  taught  a  Public  School  in  a 

little  log  cabin  about  nine  miles  from  T  .    There  I  felt  that 

every  man  ought  to  be  a  good  man,  especially  if  he  is  to  instruct 
little  children. 

"  Though  I  had  my  pupils  read  the  Bible,  yet  I  could  not 
openly  ask  God's  blessing  on  the  efforts  of  the  day.  Shortly 
after  I  united  myself  with  the  Church.    I  always  had  attended 

Sabbath  School  at  T  .    Mr.  G         placed  me  in  one  the 

first  Sabbath.  I  never  doubted  the  teachings  of  the  Scriptures. 
Soon  my  pastor  presented  the  claims  of  the  ministry.  I  thought 
about  it  for  some  time,  for  my  ambition  was  tending  strongly 
toward  the  legal  profession.  The  more  I  reflected  the  more  I 
felt  how  good  God  had  been  to  me  all  my  life,  and  that  if  I  had 
any  ability  for  laboring  in  His  harvest,  He  was  surely  entitled 
to  it. 

"  I  had  accumulated  some  property  on  the  farm  in  the  shape 
of  a  hors  a  yoke  of  oxen,  etc.,  amounting  in  all  to  some  $300. 
These  I  turned  into  cash,  and  left  for  a  preparatory  school.  This 


A  VAGRANT  SAVED. 


263 


course  that  I  had  entered  upon  did  not  meet  with  Mr.  G  's 

hearty  approbation.  At  the  academy  I  found  kind  instructors 
and  sympathizing  friends.  I  remained  there  three  years,  relying 
greatly  on  my  own  efforts  for  support.  After  entering  the  class 
of  '  74 '  last  year,  I  was  enabled  to  go  through  with  it  by  the 
kindness  of  a  few  citizens  here. 

"  I  have  now  resumed  my  duties  as  a  Sophomore,  in  faith  in 
Him  who  has  ever  been  my  best  friend.  If  I  can  prepare  myself 
for  acting  well  my  part  in  life  by  going  through  the  college  cur- 
riculum, I  shall  be  satisfied. 

"  I  shall  ever  acknowledge  with  gratitude  that  the  Children's 
Aid  Society  has  been  the  instrument  of  my  elevation. 

"  To  be  taken  from  the  gutters  of  New  York  city  and  placed 
in  a  college  is  almost  a  miracle. 

"  I  am  not  an  exception  either.    Wm.  F  ,  who  was  taken 

West  during  the  war,  in  a  letter  received  from  W  College, 

dated  Oct.  7,  writes  thus  :  '  I  have  heard  that  you  were  studying 
for  the  ministry,  so  am  I.  I  have  a  long  time  yet  before  I  enter 
the  field,  but  I  am  young  and  at  the  right  age  to  begin/  My 
prayer  is  that  the  Society  may  be  amplified  to  greater  useful- 
ness. Yours  very  truly, 

"John  G.  B." 


ONCE  A  NEW  YORK  PAUPER,  NOW  A  WESTERN  FARMER 
«  c  ,  Mich.,  Oct.  26,  1871. 

"  Mr.  J.  Macy  : 

"  Dear  Sir — I  received  your  very  kind  and  welcome  letter  a 
few  days  since,  and  I  assure  you  that  I  felt  very  much  rejoiced 
to  know  that  you  felt  that  same  interest  in  hearing  and  knowing 
how  your  Western  boys  and  girls  get  along,  as  you  have  expressed 
in  former  times. 

"  In  your  letter  you  spoke  of  the  time  you  accompanied  our 
company  of  boys  to  the  West  as  not  seeming  so  long  to  you  as  it 
really  was.  For  my  own  part,  if  I  could  not  look  to  the  very 
many  pleasant  scenes  that  it  has  been  my  privilege  to  enjoy 
while  I  have  been  in  the  West,  I  do  not  think  it  would  seem  so 
long  to  me  since  we  all  marched  two  and  two  for  the  boat  up  the 


264    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


Hudson  River  on  our  route  for  Michigan.  There  were  some 
among  us  who  shed  a  few  tears  as  we  were  leaving  the  city,  as  we 
all  expected,  for  the  last  time.  But  as  we  sped  on  and  saw  new 
sights,  we  very  willingly  forgot  the  city  with  all  its  dusty  atmos- 
phere and  temptations  and  wickedness,  for  the  country  all  around 
us  was  clothed  in  its  richest  foliage ;  the  birds  were  singing  their 
sweetest  songs,  and  all  nature  seemed  praising  our  Heavenly 
Father  in  high  notes  of  joy. 

"  In  the  midst  of  this  enchantment  we  were  introduced  to  the 

farmers  in  the  vicinity  of  A  ,  and  then  and  there  we  many 

of  us  separated  to  go  home  with  those  kind  friends,  and  mould 
the  character  of  our  future  life. 

"  For  my  own  part,  I  was  more  than  fortunate,  for  I  secured  a 
home  with  a  good  man  and  every  comfort  of  life  I  enjoyed.  I 
had  the  benefit  of  good  schools  until  I  was  nearly  of  age,  and 
when  I  became  of  age  a  substantial  present  of  eighty  acres  of 
good  farming  land,  worth  fifty  dollars  per  acre,  was  given  me, 
and  thus  I  commenced  life.  Once  a  New  York  pauper,  now 
a  Western  farmer.  If  these  lines  should  chance  to  meet  .the 
eyes  of  any  boy  or  girl  in  your  Society,  I  would  say  to  them, 
don't  delay,  but  go  to  the  West  and  there  seek  your  home  and 
fortune.  You  may  have  some  trials  and  temptations  to  over- 
come, but  our  lives  seem  happier  when  we  know  that  we  have 
done  our  duties  and  have  done  the  will  of  our  Heavenly  Father, 
who  has  kindly  cared  for  us  all  through  our  lives. 

"  Last  winter  it  was  my  privilege  to  be  with  you  all  through 
the  Christmas  festivities,  and  it  did  my  soul  good  to  return  and 
enjoy  Christmas  with  you  after  an  absence  of  nearly  fifteen 
years.  I  met  you  there  as  I  also  did  at  the  Newsboys'  Lodging- 
house.  Those  were  times  of  rejoicing  to  me  to  see  the  wicked- 
ness we  escaped  by  not  staying  at  large  in  your  city.  When  I 
returned  home  I  brought  with  me  a  girl  of  eleven  years  of  age, 
and  intend  to  do  as  well  by  her  as  my  circumstances  will  allow. 
I  have  been  married  nearly  three  years,  and  by  God's  grace 
assisting  us  we  intend  to  meet  you  all  on  the  other  shore.  I 
have  written  you  a  very  long  letter,  but  I  will  now  close.  I 
shall  be  pleased  to  hear  from  you  again  at  any  time  when  you 
feel  at  liberty  to  write.  Hoping  to  hear  from  you  soon  again, 
I  remain  trulyyourf riend,  C.  H.  J  " 


THE  COST  OF  u  PLACING  OUT."  265 


EMIGEATIOK. 

With  reference  to  the  cost  of  this  method  of 
charity,  we  have  usually  estimated  the  net  expenses 
of  the  agent,  his  salary,  the  railroad  fares,  food  and 
clothing  for  the  child,  as  averaging  fifteen  dollars 
per  head  for  each  child  sent.  Whenever  practicable, 
the  agent  collects  from  the  employers  the  railroad 
expenses,  and  otherwise  obtains  gifts  from  benevolent 
persons  f  so  that,  frequently,  our  collections  and  "  re- 
turned fares"  in  this  way  have  amounted  to  $6,000 
or  $8,000  per  annum.  These  gifts,  however,  are  be- 
coming less  and  less,  and  will  probably  eventually 
cease  altogether;  the  farmer  feeling  that  he  has 
done  his  fair  share  in  receiving  and  training  the  child. 

We  are  continually  forced,  also,  towards  the 
newer  and  more  distant  States,  where  labor  is  more 
in  demand,  and  the  temper  of  the  population  is  more 
generous,  so  that  the  average  expense  of  the  aid  thus 
given  will  in  the  future  be  greater  for  each  boy  or  girl 
relieved. 

The  opposition,  too,  of  the  bigoted  poor  increases, 

undoubtedly  under  the  influence  of  some  of  the  more 

prejudiced  priests,  who  suppose  that  the  poor  are 

thus   removed   from   ecclesiastical   influences.  A 

class  of  children,  whom  we  used  thus  to  benefit, 

are  now  sent  to  the  Catholic  Protectory,  or  are 

retained  in  the  City  Alms-house  on  BandalPs  Island. 
12 


266    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Were  our  movement  allowed  its  full  scope,  we 
could  take  the  place  of  every  Orphan  Asylum  and 
Alms-house  for  pauper  children  in  and  around  £Tew 
York,  and  thus  save  the  public  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  dollars,  and  immensely  benefit  the  children.  We 
could  easily  "locate"  5,000  children  per  annum,  from 
the  ages  of  two  years  to  fifteen,  in  good  homes  in  the 
West,  at  an  average  net  cost  of  fifteen  dollars  per 
head. 

If  Professor  Fawcett's  objection*  be  urged,  that 
we  are  thus  doing  for  the  children  of  the  Alms-house 
poor,  what  the  industrious  and  self-supporting  poor 
cannot  get  done  for  their  own  children,  we  answer 
that  we  are  perfectly  ready  to  do  the  same  for  the 
outside  hard-working  poor;  but  their  attachment  to 
the  city,  their  ignorance  or  bigotry,  and  their  affection 
for  their  children,  will  always  prevent  them  from 
making  use  of  such  a  benefaction  to  any  large  degree. 
The  poor,  living  in  their  own  homes,  seldom  wish  to 
send  out  their  children  in  this  way.  We  do  "  place 
out 79  a  certain  number  of  such  children ;  but  the  great 
majority  of  our  little  emigrants  are  the  "  waifs  and 
strays  "  of  the  streets  in  a  large  city. 

OTJR  AGENTS. 

The  Charity  I  am  describing  has  been  singularly 
fortunate  in  its  agents;  but  in  none  more  so  than 

*  See  Fawcett  on  "  Pauperism." 


WESTERN  AGENTS. 


267 


in  those  who  performed  its  responsible  work  in  the 
West. 

Mr.  E.  P.  /  Smith,  who  writes  the  interesting 
description  above,  of  the  first  expedition  we  sent 
to  the  West,  has  since  become  honorably  distinguished 
by  labors  among  the  freedmen  as  agent  of  the  Chris- 
tian Commission. 

Our  most  successful  agent,  however,  was  Mr.  C.  C. 
Tracy,  who  had  a  certain  quaintness  of  conversation 
and  anecdote,  and  a  solid  kindness  and  benevolence, 
which  won  his  way  with  the  Western  farmers,  as  well 
as  the  little  flocks  he  conducted  to  their  new  fold. 

One  of  his  favorite  apothegms  became  almost  a 
proverb. 

" Won't  the  boy  run  away?"  was  the  frequent 
anxious  inquiry  from  the  farmers. 

"Did  ye  ever  see  a  cow  run  away  from  a  hay- 
stack ? "  was  Mr.  Tracy's  rejoinder.  "  Treat  him  well, 
and  he'll  be  sure  to  stay." 

And  the  bland  and  benevolent  manner  m  which 
ne  would  reply  to  an  irritated  employer,  who  came 
back  to  report  that  the  "  New- York  boy  "  had  knocked 
over  the  milk-pail,  and  pelted  the  best  cow,  and  let 
the  cattle  in  the  corn,  and  left  the  young  turkeys  in 
the  rain,  etc.,  etc.,  was  delightful  to  behold. 

"  My  dear  friend,  can  you  expect  boys  to  be  perfect 
at  once  ?  Didn't  you  ever  pelt  the  cattle  when  you 
were  a  boy  ?  " 


268    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Mr.  T.  testified  before  the  Senate  Committee  in 
1871,  that  he  had  transplanted  to  the  West  some  four 
or  five  thousand  children,  and,  to  the  best  of  his 
knowledge  and  belief,  very  few  ever  turned  out  bad. 

Whenever  any  of  these  children  chanced  to  be 
defective  in  mind  or  body,  or,  from  any  other  cause, 
became  chargeable  on  the  rural  authorities,  we  made 
ourselves  responsible  for  their  support,  during  any 
reasonable  time  after  their  settlement  in  the  West. 

Our  present  agents,  Mr.  E.  Trott  and  Mr.  J.  P. 
Brace,  are  exceedingly  able  and  judicious  agents,  so 
that  we  transported,  in  1871,  to  the  country,  some 
three  thousand  children,  at  an  expense,  including  all 
salaries  and  costs,  of  $31,638. 

We  have  also  a  resident  Western  agent,  Mr.  C.  E. 
Fry,  who  looks  after  the  interests  of  those  previously 
sent,  and  prepares  for  future  parties,  traveling  from 
village  to  village.  The  duties  of  all  these  agents  are 
very  severe  and  onerous. 

It  is  a  matter  of  devout  thankfulness  that  no 
accident  has  ever  happened  to  any  one  of  the  many 
parties  of  children  we  have  sent  out,  or  to  the  agents. 

The  following  testimony  was  given  by  Mr.  J.Macy, 
Assistant  Secretary  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society, 
before  the  Senate  Committee,  in  1871 : — 

"Mr.  J.  Macy  testified  that  he  corresponds  annually  with 
from  eight  thousand  to  ten  thousand  persons,  and,  on  an  average, 
receives  about  two  thousand  letters  from  children  and  thei1*  em- 


EFFECTS  OF  EMIGRATION. 


269 


plovers.  He  has  personal  knowledge  of  a  great  many  boys 
growing  up  to  /be  respectable  citizens,  others  having  married 
well,  others  graduating  in  Western  colleges.  Out  of  twenty-one 
thousand,  not  over  twelve  children  have  turned  out  criminals. 
The  percentage  of  boys  returning  to  the  city  from  the  West  is  too 
small  to  be  computed,  not  more  than  six  annually.  From  cor- 
respondence and  personal  knowledge,  he  is  thoroughly  satis- 
fied that  but  very  few  turned  out  bad,  and  that  the  only  way 
of  saving  large  boys  from  falling  into  criminal  practices  is  to 
send  them  into  good  country-homes.  He  regarded  the  system 
of  sending  families  to  the  West  as  one  of  the  best  features  of 
the  work  of  the  Society.  Not  a  family  has  been  sent  West 
which  has  not  improved  by  the  removal.  The  Society  had  never 
changed  the  name  of  a  child,  and  Catholic  children  had  often 
been  intrusted  to  Catholic  families/'     *       *       *       *  * 


"  Letter  from  a  newsboy  to  the  Superintendent  of  the  Lodg- 
ing-house : — 

«  <  M  ,  Ind.,  Nov.  24,  1859. 

" '  To  my  Friend  and  Benefactor. — So  I  take  my  pen  in 
my  hand  to  let  you  know  how  I  am,  and  how  I  am  getting  along. 
As  far  as  I  see,  I  am  well  satisfied  with  my  place ;  but  I  took  a 
general  look  around,  and,  as  far  as  I  see,  all  the  boys  left  in 

M  are  doing  well,  especially  myself,  and  I  think  there  is  as 

much  fun  as  in  New  York,  for  nuts  and  apples  are  all  free.  I 
am  much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  O'Connor,  for  the  paper  you  sent 
me.  I  received  it  last  night ;  I  read  it  last  night — something 
about  the  Newsboys'  Lodging-house. 

"  '  All  the  newsboys  of  New  York  have  a  bad  name  ;  but  we 
should  show  ourselves,  and  show  them,  that  we  are  no  fools  ; 
that  we  can  become  as  respectable  as  any  of  their  countrymen, 
for  some  of  you  poor  boys  can  do  something  for  your  country — 
for  Franklin,  Webster,  Clay,  were  poor  boys  once,  and  even 
Commodore  V.  C.  Perry  or  Math.  C.  Perry.  But  even  George 
Law,  and  Vanderbilt,  and  Astor — some  of  the  richest  men  of 
New  York — and  Math,  and  V.  C.  Perry  were  nothing  but  printers, 
and  in  the  navy  on  Lake  Erie.    And  look  at  Winfield  Scott.  So 


270    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


now,  boys,  stand  up  and  let  them  see  you  have  got  the  real  stuff 
in  you.  Come  out  here  and  make  respectable  and  honorable 
men,  so  they  can  say,  there,  that  boy  was  once  a  newsboy. 

" (  Now,  boys,  you  all  know  I  have  tried  everything.  I  have 
been  a  newsboy  and  when  that  got  slack,  you  know  I  have 
smashed  baggage.  I  have  sold  nuts,  I  have  peddled,  I  have 
worked  on  the  rolling  billows  up  the  canal.  I  was  a  boot-black ; 
and  you  know  when  I  sold  papers  I  was  at  the  top  of  our  pro- 
fession. I  had  a  good  stand  of  my  own,  but  I  found  that  all 
would  not  do.  I  could  not  get  along,  but  I  am  now  going  ahead. 
I  have  a  first-rate  home,  ten  dollars  a  month,  and  my  board  ;  and 
I  tell  you,  fellows,  that  is  a  great  deal  more  than  I  could  scrape 
up  my  best  times  in  New  York.  We  are  all  on  an  equality,  my 
boys,  out  here,  so  long  as  we  keep  yourselves  respectable. 

"  '  Mr.  O'Connor,  tell  Fatty  or  F.  John  Pettibone,  to  send  me 
a  Christmas  number  of  Frank  Leslie's  and  Harper's  Weekly  a 
Weekly  News  or  some  other  pictorials  to  read,  especially  the 
Newsboys'  Pictorial,  if  it  comes  out.  No  old  papers,  or  else  none. 
If  they  would  get  some  other  boys  to  get  me  some  books.  I 
want  something  to  read. 

"  '  I  hope  this  letter  will  find  you  in  good  health,  as  it  leaves 
me.  Mr.  O'Connor,  I  expect  an  answer  before  two  weeks — a 
letter  and  a  paper.  Write  to  me  all  about  the  Lodging-house. 
With  this  I  close  my  letter,  with  much  respect  to  all. 

"  *  I  remain  your  truly  obedient  friend, 

"<J.  K/" 


\ 

CHAPTEE  XXII. 

A  PRACTICAL  PHILANTHROPIST  AMONG  THE  YOUNG 
"  ROUGHS." 

A  sketch  of  the  long  and  successful  efforts  for 
the  improvement  of  the  dangerous  classes  we  have 
been  describing  would  be  imperfect  without  an  ac- 
count of 

THE  OFFICE  OF  THE  CHILDREN'S  AID  SOCIETY. 

This  has  become  a  kind  of  eddying-point,  where 
the  two  streams  of  the  fortunate  and  the  unfortunate 
classes  seem  to  meet.  Such  a  varying  procession  of 
humanity  as  passes  through  these  plain  rooms,  from 
one  year's  end  to  the  other,  can  nowhere  else  be  seen. 
If  photographs  could  be  taken  of  the  human  life  re- 
vealed there,  they  would  form  a  volume  of  pictures  of 
the  various  fortunes  of  large  classes  in  a  great  city. 
On  one  day,  there  will  be  several  mothers  with  babes. 
They  wish  them  adopted,  or  taken  by  any  one.  They 
relate  sad  stories  of  desertion  and  poverty ;  they  are 
strangers  or  immigrants.  When  the  request  is  de- 
clined, they  beseech,  and  say  that  the  child  must  die, 
for  they  cannot  support  both.  It  is  but  too  plain  that 
they  are  illegitimate  children.    As  they  depart,  the 


272    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

horrible  feeling  presses  on  one,  that  the  child  will  soon 
follow  the  fate  of  so  many  thousands  born  out  of  wed- 
lock. Again,  a  pretty  young  woman  comes  to  beg  a 
home  for  the  child  of  some  friend,  who  cannot  support 
it.  Her  story  need  not  be  told;  the  child  is  hers,  and 
is  the  offspring  of  shame.  Or  some  person  from  the 
higher  classes  enters,  to  inquire  for  the  traces  of  some 
boy,  long  disappeared — the  child  of  passion  and  sin. 

But  the  ordinary  frequenters  are  the  children  of  the 
street — the  Arabs  and  gypsies  of  our  city. 

Here  enters  a  little  flower-seller,  her  shawl  drawn 
over  her  head,  barefooted  and  ragged — she  begs  for  a 
home  and  bread;  here  a  newsboy,  wide-awake  and 
impudent,  but  softened  by  his  desire  to  "  get  West;" 
here  "  a  bummer,"  ragged,  frouzy,  with  tangled  hair 
and  dirty  face,  who  has  slept  for  years  in  boxes  and 
privies;  here  a  "canawl-boy,"  who  cannot  steer  his 
little  craft  in  the  city  as  well  as  he  could  his  boat ;  or 
a  petty  thief  who  wishes  to  reform  his  ways,  or  a  boot- 
black who  has  conceived  the  ambition  of  owning  land, 
or  a  little  u revolver"  who  hopes  to  get  quarters  for 
nothing  in  a  Lodging-house  and  "  pitch  pennies"  in  the 
interval.  Sometimes  some  yellow-haired  German  boy, 
stranded  by  fortune  in  the  city,  will  apply,  with  such 
honest  blue  eyes,  that  the  first  employer  that  enters 
will  carry  him  off ;  or  a  sharp,  intelligent  Yankee  lad, 
left  adrift  by  sudden  misfortune,  comes  in  to  do  what 
he  has  never  done  before — ask  for  assistance.  Then 


A  u  CHARACTER." 


273 


an  orphan-girl  will  appear,  floating  on  the  waves  of 
the  city,  having  come  here  no  one  knows  why,  and 
going  no  one  can  tell  whither. 

Employers  call  to  obtain  " perfect  children;" 
drunken  mothers  rush  in  to  bring  back  their  children 
they  have  already  consented  should  be  sent  far  from 
poverty  and  temptation ;  ladies  enter  to  find  the  best 
object  of  their  charities,  and  the  proper  field  for  their 
benevolent  labors;  liberal  donors;  " intelligent  for- 
eigners," inquiring  into  our  institutions,  applicants  for 
teachers'  places,  agents,  and  all  the  miscellaneous 
crowd  who  support  and  visit  agencies  of  charity. 

A  PRACTICAL  PHILANTHROPIST. 

The  central  figure  in  this  office,  disentangling  all 
the  complicated  threads  in  these  various  applications, 
and  holding  himself  perfectly  cool  and  bland  in  this 
turmoil,  is  u  a  character" — Mr.  J.  Macy. 

He  was  employed  first  as  a  visitor  for  the  Society; 
but,  soon  betraying  a  kind  of  bottled-up  u  enthusiasm 
of  humanity"  under  a  very  modest  exterior,  he  was 
put  in  his  present  position,  where  he  has  become  a 
sort  of  embodied  Children's  Aid  Society  in  his  own 
person.  Most  men  take  their  charities  as  adjuncts  to 
life,  or  as  duties  enjoined  by  religion  or  humanity. 
Mr.  Macy  lives  in  his.  He  is  never  so  truly  happy  as 
when  he  is  sitting  calmly  amid  a  band  of  his  u  lambs," 
as  he  sardonically  calls  the  heavy-fisted,  murderous- 


274     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

looking  young  vagabonds  who  frequent  the  Cottage- 
place  Beading-room,  and  seeing  them  all  happily  en- 
gaged in  reading  or  quiet  amusements.  Then  the 
look  of  beatific  satisfaction  that  settles  over  his  face, 
as,  in  the  midst  of  a  loving  passage  of  his  religious 
address  to  them,  he  takes  one  of  the  obstreperous 
lambs  by  the  collar,  and  sets  him  down  very  hard  on 
another  bench— never  for  a  moment  breaking  the 
thread  or  sweet  tone  of  his  bland  remarks — is  a  sight 
to  behold ;  you  know  that  he  is  happier  there  than  he 
would  be  in  a  palace. 

His  labors  with  these  youthful  scapegraces  around 
Cottage  Place,  during  the  last  fifteen  years,  would 
form  one  of  the  most  instructive  chapters  in  the  his- 
tory of  philanthropy.  I  have  beheld  him  discoursing 
sweetly  on  the  truths  of  Christianity  while  a  storm  of 
missiles  was  coming  through  the  windows;  in  fact, 
during  the  early  days  of  the  meeting,  the  windows 
were  always  barricaded  with  boards.  The  more  vio- 
lent the  intruders  were,  the  more  amiable,  and  at  the 
same  time,  the  more  firm  he  became. 

In  fact,  he  never  seemed  so  well  satisfied  as  when 
the  roughest  little  "  bummers"  of  the  ward  entered 
his  Boys'  Meeting.  The  virtuous  and  well-behaved 
children  did  not  interest  him  half  so  much.  By  a  pa- 
tience which  is  almost  incredible,  and  a  steady  kind- 
ness of  years,  he  finally  succeeded  in  subduing  these 
wild  young  vagrants,  frequently  being  among  them 


KIS  HUMOR.  275 

every  night  of  the  week,  holding  magic-lantern  exhi- 
bitions, temperance  meetings,  social  gatherings,  and 
the  like,  till  he  really  knew  them  and  attracted  their 
sympathies.  His  cheerfulness  was  high  when  the 
meeting  grew  into  an  Industrial  School,  where  the 
little  girls,  who  perplexed  him  so,  could  be  trained  by 
female  hands,  and  his  happiness  was  at  its  acme  when 
the  liberality  of  one  or  two  gentlemen  enabled  him  to 
open  a  Beading-room  for  "the  lambs."  The  enter- 
prise was  always  an  humble  one  in  appearance ;  but 
such  were  the  genuineness  and  spirit  of  humanity  in 
it — the  product  of  his  sisters  as  well  as  himself — that 
it  soon  met  with  kind  support  from  various  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  and  now  is  one  of  those  lights  in  dark 
places  which  must  gladden  any  observer  of  the  misery 
and  crime  of  this  city. 

Mr.  Macy's  salvation  in  these  exhausting  and 
nerve-wearing  efforts,  and  divers  others  which  T  have 
not  detailed,  is  his  humor.  I  have  seen  him  take  two 
lazy-looking  young  men,  who  had  applied  most  pite- 
ously  for  help,  conduct  them  very  politely  to  the  door, 
and,  pointing  amiably  to  the  Third  Avenue,  say, 
"STow,  my  boys,  just  be  kind  enough  to  walk  right 
north  up  that  avenue  for  one  hundred  miles  into  the 
country,  and  you  will  find  plenty  of  work  and  food. 
Good-by  !  good-by ! "    The  boys  depart,  mystified. 

Or  a  dirty  little  fellow  presents  himself  in  the 
office.    "  Please,  sir,  I  am  an  orphant,  and  I  want  a 


276    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

home ! "  Mr.  Macy  eyes  him  carefully ;  his  knowledge 
of  upaidologyv  has  had  many  years  to  ripen  in ;  he  sees, 
perhaps,  amid  his  rags,  a  neatly-sewed  patch,  or  notes 
that  his  naked  feet  are  too  white  for  a  "  bummer." 
He  takes  him  to  the  inner  office.  u  My  boy  !  Where 
do  you  live  ?    Where's  your  father  ?  " 

u  Please,  sir,  I  don't  live  nowhere,  and  I  hain't  got 
no  father,  and  me  mither  is  dead!"  Then  follows  a 
long  and  touching  story  of  his  orphanage,  the  tears 
flowing  down  his  cheeks.  The  bystanders  are  almost 
melted  themselves.  Not  so  Mr.  Macy.  Grasping  the 
boy  by  the  shoulder,  "  Where's  your  mother,  I  say  ?" 
"  Oh,  dear,  I'm  a  poor  orphant,  and  I  hain't  got  no 
mither ! "  u  Where  is  your  mother ,  I  say  ?  Where  do 
you  live  ?  I  give  you  just  three  minutes  to  tell,  and 
then,  if  you  do  not,  I  shall  hand  you  over  to  that 
officer ! "  The  lad  yields ;  his  true  story  is  told,  and 
a  runaway  restored  to  his  family. 

In  the  midst  of  his  highest  discouragements  at 
Cottage  Place,  Mr.  Macy  frequently  had  some  charac- 
teristic story  of  his  u  lambs"  to  refresh  him  in  his 
intervals  of  rest.  And  some  peculiar  exhibition  of 
mischief  or  wickedness  always  seemed  to  act  as  a  kind 
of  tonic  on  him  and  restore  his  spirits. 

I  shall  not  forget  the  cheerfulness  with  which  he 
related  one  day  that,  after  having  preached  with  great 
unction  the  Sunday  previous  on  "  stealing,"  he  came 
back  the  next  and  discovered  that  a  private  room  in 


\      CONTEST  OF  WITS. 


277 


the  building,  which  he  only  occasionally  used,  had 
been  employed  by  the  boys  for  some  time  as  a  recepta- 
cle for  stolen  goods ! 

On  another  occasion,  he  had  held  forth  with  pecu- 
liar "  liberty "  on  the  sin  of  thieving,  and,  when  he  sat 
down  almost  exhausted,  discovered,  to  his  dismay, 
that  his  hat  had  been  stolen!  But,  knowing  that  mis- 
chief was  at  the  bottom,  and  that  a  crowd  of  young 
u roughs"  were  outside  waiting  to  see  him  go  home 
bareheaded,  he  said  nothing  of  his  loss,  but  procured 
a  cap  and  quietly  walked  away. 

I  think  the  contest  of  wits  among  them — they  for 
mischief  and  disturbance,  and  he  to  establish  order 
and  get  control  over  them — gave  a  peculiar  zest  to  his 
religious  labors,  which  he  would  not  have  had  in 
calmer  scenes  and  more  regular  services.  If  they  put 
pepper  on  the  stove,  he  endured  it  much  longer  than 
they  could,  and  kept  them  until  they  were  half  suffo- 
cated ;  and  when  they  barricaded  the  door  outside,  he 
protracted  the  devotional  exercises  or  varied  them 
with  a  u  magic  lantern,"  to  give  time  for  forcing  the 
door,  and  an  orderly  exit.* 

The  girls,  however,  were  his  great  torment,  espe- 
cially when  they  stoned  their  spiritual  guides ;  these, 

*  Mr.  Macy,  on  one  occasion,  on  a  bitter  winter  day,  found 
the  lock  of  the  room  picked  and  the  boys  within.  He  accused 
some  of  the  larger  boys.  They  denied,  "  No  sir — no :  it  couldn't 
be  us ;  because  we  was  in  the  liquor-shop  on  the  corner ;  we 
ain't  got  nowlieres  else  to  go  to  !  " 


278    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

however,  lie  eventually  forwarded  into  the  Cottage- 
place  Industrial  School,  which  sprang  from  the  Meet- 
ing, and  there  they  were  gradually  civilized. 

For  real  suffering  and  honest  effort  at  self-help,  he 
had  a  boundless  sympathy  ;  but  the  paupers  and  pro- 
fessional beggars  were  the  terror  of  his  life.  He 
dreaded  nothing  so  much  as  a  boy  or  girl  falling  into 
habits  of  dependence.  Where  he  was  compelled  to 
give  assistance  in  money,  he  has  been  known  to  set 
one  boy  to  throw  wood  down  and  the  other  to  pile  it 
up,  before  he  would  aid. 

His  more  stormy  philanthropic  labors  have  been 
succeeded  by  calmer  efforts  among  a  delightful  congre- 
gation of  poor  German  children  in  Second  Street,  who 
love  and  revere  him.  When  he  needs,  however,  a  lit- 
tle refreshment  and  intoning,  he  goes  over  to  his  Cot- 
tage-place Beading-room,  and  sits  with  or  instructs 
his  u  lambs  VJ 

His  main  work,  however,  is  in  the  "  office'7  of  the 
Children's  Aid  Society,  which  I  have  described  above. 
Though  a  plain  half-Quaker  himself,  he  has  all  the 
tact  of  a  diplomat^  and  manages  the  complicated  affairs 
of  poverty  and  crime  that  come  before  him  with  a 
wonderful  skill,  getting  on  as  well  with  the  lady  as  the 
street-vagrant,  and  seldom  ever  making  a  blunder  in 
the  thousand  delicate  matters  which  pass  through  his 
hands.  When  it  is  remembered  that  some  seventeen 
thousand  street-children  have  passed  through  that 


A  QUAKER  DIPLOMAT. 


279 


office  to  homes  in  the  country,  and  that  but  one  law- 
suit has  ever  occurred  about  them  (and  that  through 
no  mistake  of  the  Society),  while  numbers  of  bitter 
enemies  watch  every  movement  of  this  charity,  it  will 
be  seen  with  what  consummate  judgment  these  delicate 
matters  have  been  managed.  Besides  all  this,  he  is 
the  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend  of  hundreds  of  these 
young  wayfarers  in  every  part  of  the  country,  sustain- 
ing with  them  an  enormous  correspondence ;  but,  as 
sympathy,  and  advice,  and  religious  instruction  on 
such  a  gigantic  scale  would  soon  weary  out  even  his 
vitality,  he  stereotypes  his  letters,  and,  by  a  sort  of 
pious  fraud,  says  to  each  what  is  written  for  all.  It  is 
very  interesting  to  come  across  the  quaint,  affectionate 
words  and  characteristic  expressions  of  this  devoted 
philanthropist  addressed  to  "  his  boys,"  but  put  up  in 
packages  of  a  thousand  copies,  and  to  think  to  how 
many  little  rovers  over  the  land  they  bring  sympathy 
and  encouragement. 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

RAISING  MONEY  FOR  A  CHARITY. 

One  of  the  trials  of  a  young  Charity  is  raising 
money.  I  was  determined  to  put  this  on  as  sound  and 
rational  a  basis  as  possible.  It  seemed  to  me,  that,  if 
the  facts  were  well  known  in  regard  to  the  great  suf- 
fering and  poverty  among  the  children  in  New  York, 
and  the  principles  of  our  operations  were  well  under- 
stood, we  could  more  safely  depend  on  this  enlightened 
public  opinion  and  sympathy  than  on  any  sudden 
"  sensation  ?  or  gush  of  feeling. 

Our  Board  fully  concurred  in  these  views,  and  we 
resolutely  eschewed  all  u  raffles v  and  pathetic  exhi- 
bitions of  abandoned  children,  and  u  pedestrian "  or 
other  exhibitions  offered  us  for  the  benefit  of  humanity, 
and  never  even  enjoyed  the  perfectly  legitimate  benefit 
of  a  "fair."  Once,  in  a  moment  of  enthusiasm  I  was 
led  into  arranging  a  concert,  for  the  benefit  of  a 
School ;  but  that  experience  was  enough.  Our  effort 
at  musical  benevolence  became  a  series  of  most  inhar- 
monious squabbles.  The  leading  soprano  singer  had 
a  quarrel  with  the  bass ;  the  instrumental  split  with 
the  vocal  performers ;  our  best  solo  went  off  in  a  huff, 


\ 

PRESENTING  u  THE  CAUSED  281 

and,  at  last,  by  superhuman  exertions,  we  reconciled 
tlie  discordant  elements  and  got  our  concert  fairly 
before  the  public,  and  retired  with  a  few  hundred 
dollars. 

Whatever  gave  the  public  a  sensation,  always  had 
a  reaction.  The  solid  ground  for  us  was  evidently 
the  most  rational  one.  I  accordingly  made  the  most 
incessant  exertions  to  enlighten  and  stir  up  the  public. 
In  this  labor  the  most  disagreeable  part  was  present- 
ing our  " cause"  to  individuals.  I  seldom  solicited 
money  directly,  but  sought  rather  to  lay  the  wants 
and  methods  before  them.  Yet,  even  here,  some 
received  it  as  if  it  were  some  new  move  of  charlatanry, 
or  some  new  device  for  extracting  money  from  fall 
purses.  Evidently,  to  many  minds,  the  fact  of  a  man 
of  education  devoting  himself  to  such  pursuits  was 
in  itself  an  enigma  or  an  eccentricity.  Fortunately,- 1 
was  able  early  to  make  use  of  the  pulpits  of  the  city 
and  country,  and  sometimes  was  accustomed  to  spend 
every  night  in  the  week  and  the  Sunday  in  delivering 
sermons  and  addresses  throughout  the  Eastern  States. 
As  a  general  thing,  T  did  not  urge  a  collection,  though 
occasionally  having  one,  but  chose  rather  to  convince 
the  understanding,  and  leave  the  matter  before  the 
people  for  consideration.  No  public  duties  of  mine 
were  ever  more  agreeable  than  these ;  and  the  results 
proved  afterwards  most  happy,  in  securing  a  large 
rural  "  constituency,"  who  steadily  supported  our 


282     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

movements  in  good  times  and  bad ;  so  quietly  devoted, 
and  in  earnest,  that  death  did  not  diminish  their 
interest — some  of  our  best  bequests  having  come  from 
the  country. 

The  next  great  implement  was  that  profession 
which  has  done  more  for  this  Charity  than  any  other 
instrumentality.  Having,  fortunately,  an  early  con- 
nection with  the  press,  I  made  it  a  point,  from  the 
beginning,  to  keep  our  movements,  and  the  evils  we 
sought  to  cure,  continually  before  the  public  in  the 
columns  of  the  daily  journals.  Articles  describing 
the  habits  and  trials  of  the  poor ;  editorials  urging 
the  community  to  work  in  these  directions ;  essays 
discussing  the  science  of  charity  and  reform ;  continual 
paragraphs  about  special  charities,  were  poured  forth 
incessantly  for  years  through  the  daily  and  weekly 
press  of  New  York,  until  the  public  became  thoroughly 
imbued  with  our  ideas  and  a  sense  of  the  evils  which 
we  sought  to  reform.  To  accomplish  this,  I  had  to 
keep  up  a  constant  connection  with  the  press,  and  was, 
in  fact,  often  daily  editor,  in  addition  to  my  other 
avocations. 

As  a  result  of  this  incessant  publicity,  and  of  the 
work  already  done,  a  very  superior  class  of  young  men 
consented  to  serve  in  our  Board  of  Trustees ;  men 
who,  in  their  high  principles  of  duty,  and  in  the  obli- 
gations which  they  feel  are  imposed  by  wealth  and 
position,  bid  fair  hereafter  to  make  the  name  of  New 


OUK,  INCOME. 


283 


York  merchants  respected  as  it  never  was  before 
throughout  the  country.  With  these  as  backers  and 
supervisors,  we  were  enabled  to  approach  the  Legisla- 
ture for  aid,  on  the  ground  that  we  were  doing  a 
humane  work  which  lightened  the  taxes  and  burdens 
of  the  whole  community  and  was  in  the  interest  of  all- 
Tear  after  year  our  application  was  rejected,  but 
finally  we  succeeded,  and  laid  a  solid  and  permanent 
basis  thus  for  our  future  work. 

SOURCES  OF  INCOME. 

Our  first  important  acquisition  of  property  was  a 
bequest  from  a  much-esteemed  pupil  of  mine,  J.  B. 
Barnard,  of  lew  Haven,  Conn.,  of  $15,000,  in  1856. 
We  determined  to  use  this  at  once  in  the  work.  For 
many  years,  finding  the  needs  of  the  city  so  enormous, 
and  believing  that  our  best  capital  was  in  the  results 
of  our  efforts,  and  not  in  funds,  we  spent  every  dollar 
we  could  obtain  at  once  upon  our  labors  of  charity, 
\  At  length,  in  1863,  a  very  fortunate  event  occurred 
for  us :  a  gentleman  had  died  in  New  Tork,  named  John 
Eose,  who  left  a  large  property  which  he  willed  should 
be  appropriated  to  forming  some  charitable  institution 
for  neglected  children,  and,  under  certain  conditions, 
to  the  Colonization  Society.  The  will  was  so  vaguely 
worded,  that  the  brother,  Mr.  Chauncey  Eose,  fe^t  it 
necessary  to  attempt  to  break  it.    This,  after  long 


284    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

litigation,  he  succeeded  in  doing,  and  the  property — 
now  swollen  to  the  amount  of  nearly  a  million  dollars 
— reverted  mainly  to  him.  With  a  rare  conscience 
and  generosity,  he  felt  it  his  duty  not  to  use  any  of 
this  large  estate  for  himself,  but  to  distribute  it  among 
various  charities  in  New  York,  relating  to  poor  chil- 
dren, according  to  what  appeared  to  be  the  intention 
of  his  brother.  To  our  Society  he  gave,  at  different 
times,  something  like  $200,000.  Of  this,  we  made 
$150,000  an  invested  fund ;  and  henceforth  we  sought 
gradually  to  increase  our  permanent  and  assured 
income,  so  that  the  Association  might  continue  its 
benevolent  work  after  the  present  managers  had 
departed. 

And  yet  we  were  glad  that  a  good  proportion  of 
our  necessary  expenses  should  be  met  by  current 
contributions,  so  that  the  Society  might  have  the 
vitality  arising  from  constant  contact  with  the  public, 
as  well  as  the  permanency  from  invested  property. 

If  we  take  a  single  year,  1870,  as  showing  the 
sources  of  our  income,  we  shall  find  that  out  of  nearly 
$200,000  received  that  year,  including  $32,000  for  the 
purchase  of  two  Lodging-houses,  and  $7,000  raised 
by  the  local  committees  of  the  Schools,  $60,000  came 
by  tax  from  the  county,  $20,000  from  the  "  Excise 
Fund  v  (now  abolished),  nearly  $20,000  from  the  Board 
of  Education,  being  a  pro  rata  allotment  on  the  ave- 
rage number  of  pupils,  and  about  $9,000  from  the 


V 


LIBERALITY.  285 

Comptroller  of  the  State ;  making  about  $109,000,  or 
a  little  over  one-half  of  our  income,  received  from  the 
public  authorities.  Of  the  ninety-odd  thousand  re- 
ceived from  private  sources,  about  eleven  thousand 
came  from  our  investments,  leaving  some  $80,000  as 
individual  contributions  during  one  year — a  remarka- 
ble fact,  both  as  showing  the  generosity  of  the  public 
and  their  confidence  in  the  work. 

This  liberal  outlay,  both  by  the  city  and  private 
individuals,  has  been  and  is  being  constantly  repaid, 
in  the  lessening  of  the  expenses  and  loss  from  crime 
and  pauperism,  and  the  increasing  of  the  number  of 
honest  and  industrious  producers. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


REFORM    AMONG    THE    ROWDIES — FREE  READING- 
ROOMS. 

At  first  sight,  it  would  seem  very  obvious  that  a 
place  of  mental  improvement  and  social  resort,  with 
agreeable  surroundings,  offered  gratuitously  to  the 
laboring-people,  would  be  eagerly  frequented.  On  its 
face,  the  u  Free  Beading-room  79  appears  a  most 
natural,  feasible  method  of  applying  the  great  lever 
of  sociality  (without  temptations)  to  lifting  up  the 
poorer  classes.  The  working-man  and  the  street-boy 
get  here  what  they  so  much  desire,  a  pleasant  place, 
warmed  and  lighted,  for  meeting  their  companions, 
for  talking,  playing  innocent  games,  or  reading  the 
papers ;  they  get  it,  too,  for  nothing.  When  we  re- 
member how  these  people  live,  in  what  crowded  and 
slatternly  rooms,  or  damp  cellars,  or  close  attics,  some 
even  having  no  home  at  all,  and  that  their  only  social 
resort  is  the  grog-shop,  we  might  suppose  that  they 
would  jump  at  the  chance  of  a  pleasant  and  Free  Saloon 
and  Eeading-room.  But  this  is  by  no  means  the  case. 
This  instrument  of  improvement  requires  peculiar 
management  to  be  successful.  Our  own  experience  is 
instructive. 


FREE  READINGr-ROOMS. 


287 


The  writer  of  this  had  had  the  Reading-room  u  on 
the  brain "  for  many  years,  when,  at  length,  on  talking 
over  the  subject  with  a  gentleman  in  the  eastern  part 
of  the  city — one  whose  name  has  since  been  a  tower 
of  strength  to  this  whole  movement — he  consented  to 
father  the  enterprise,  and  be  the  treasurer — an  office 
in  young  charities,  be  it  remembered,  no  sinecure. 

We  opened,  accordingly,  near  the  Novelty  Iron- 
Works,  under  the  best  auspices, 

THE  ELEVENTH  WARD  FREE  READING-ROOM. 

The  rooms  were  spacious  and  pleasant,  furnished 
with  a  plenty  of  papers  and  pamphlets,  and,  to  add 
to  the  attractions  and  help  pay  expenses,  the  superin- 
tendent was  to  sell  coffee  and  simple  refreshments. 
Our  theory  was,  that  coffee  would  compete  with  liquor 
as  u  stimulus,  and  that  the  profits  of  the  sale  would 
pay  most  of  the  running  cost.  We  were  right  among 
a  crowded  working  population,  and  everything  prom- 
ised success. 

At  first  there  were  considerable  numbers  of  labor- 
ing-men present  every  day  and  evening ;  but,  to  our 
dismay,  they  began  to  fall  off.  We  tried  another 
superintendent;  still  the  working-man  preferred  his 
"  dreary  rooms,"  or  the  ruinous  liquor-shops,  to  our 
pleasant  Beading-room.  The  coffee  did  not  suit  him ; 
the  refreshments  were  not  to  his  taste ;  he  would  not 
read,  because  he  thought  he  ought  to  call  for  some- 


288    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

thing  to  eat  or  drink  if  he  did  ;  and  so  at  length  he 
dropped  off.  Finally,  the  attendance  became  so  thin 
and  the  expenses  were  accumulating  to  such  a  degree, 
that  we  closed  the  room,  and  our  magnanimous  treas- 
urer footed  the  bills.  This  failure  discouraged  us  for 
some  years,  but  the  idea  seemed  to  me  sound,  and  I 
was  resolved  to  try  it  once  more  under  better  circum- 
stances. 

In  looking  about  for  some  specially-adapted  instru- 
ment for  influencing  "the  dangerous  classes,"  I 
chanced,  just  after  the  remarkable  religious  "Bevi- 
val"  of  1858,  on  a  singular  character, 

A  REFORMED  PUGILIST. 

This  was  a  reformed  or  converted  prize-fighter, 
named  Orville  (and  nicknamed  u  Awful")  Gardner. 
He  was  a  broad-shouldered,  burly  individual,  with  a 
tremendous  neck,  and  an  arm  as  thick  as  a  moderate- 
sized  man's  leg.  His  career  had  been  notorious  and 
infamous  in  the  extreme,  he  having  been  one  of  the 
roughs  employed  by  politicians,  and  engaged  in  rows 
and  fights  without  number,  figuring  several  times  in 
the  prize-ring,  and  once  having  bitten  off  a  man's 
nose ! 

Yet  the  man  must  Jiave  been  less  brutal  than  his 
life  would  show.  He  was  a  person  evidently  of  vol- 
canic emotions  and  great  capacity  of  affection.  I  was 
curious  about  his  case,  and  watched  it  closely  for  some 


THE  KUFFIAN7S  REFORM. 


289 


years,  as  showing  what  is  so  often  disputed  in  modern 
times — the  reforming  power  of  Christianity  on  the 
most  abandoned  characters. 

The  point  through  which  his  brutalized  nature  had 
been  touched,  had  been  evidently  his  affection  for  an 
only  child — a  little  boy.  He  described  to  me  once,  in 
very  simple,  touching  language,  his  affection  and  love 
for  this  child;  how  he  dressed  him  in  the  best,  and 
did  all  he  could  for  him,  but  always  keeping  him  away 
from  all  knowledge  of  his  own  dissipation.  One  day 
he  was  off  on  some  devilish  errand  among  the  immi- 
grants on  Staten  Island,  when  he  saw  a  boat  approach- 
ing quickly  with  one  of  his  "palk."  The  man  rowed 
up  near  him,  and  stopped  and  looked  at  him  "  very 
queer,"  and  didn't  say  anything. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  looking  at  me  in  that 
way  for  ?  "  said  Gardner. 

"  Tout  boy  is  drownded !  "  replied  the  other. 

Gardner  says  he  fell  back  in  the  boat,  as  if  you'd 
hit  him  right  straight  from  the  shoulder  behind  the 
ear,  and  did  not  know  anything  for  a  long  time.  When 
he  recovered,  he  kept  himself  drunk  for  three  weeks, 
and  smashed  a  number  of  policemen,  and  was  "  put 
up,"  just  so  as  to  forget  the  bright  little  fellow  who 
had  been  the  pride  of  his  heart. 

This  great  loss,  however,  must  have  opened  his 

nature  to  other  influences.    When  the  deep  religious 

sympathy  pervaded  the  community,  there  came  over  • 
13 


290    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


him  suddenly  one  of  those  Eevelations  which,  in 
some  form  or  other,  visit  most  human  beings  at  least 
once  in  their  lives.  They  are  almost  too  deep  and 
intricate  to  be  described  in  these  pages.  The  human 
soul  sees  itself,  for  the  first  time,  as  reflected  in  the 
mirror  of  divine  purity.  It  has  for  the  moment  a 
conception  of  what  Christ  is,  and  what  Love  means. 
Singularly  enough,  the  thought  and  sentiment  which 
took  possession  of  this  ruffian  and  debauchee  and 
prize-fighter,  and  made  him  as  one  just  cured  of 
leprosy,  was  the  Platonic  conception  of  Love,  and 
that  embodied  in  the  ideal  form  of  Christianity. 
Under  it  he  became  as  a  little  child ;  he  abandoned 
his  vices,  gave  up  his  associates,  and  resolved  to  con- 
secrate his  life  to  humanity  and  the  service  of  Him  to 
whom  he  owed  so  much.  The  spirit,  when  I  first  met 
him,  with  which  he  used  to  encounter  his  old  com- 
panions must  have  been  something  like  that  of  the 
early  Christian  converts. 

Thus,  an  old  boon  companion  meets  him  in  the 
street :  "  Why,  Orful,  what  the  h — IPs  this  about  your 
bein?  converted  ?  " 

And  the  other  turns  to  him  with  such  pent-up 
feeling  bursting  forth,  telling  him  of  the  new  things 
that  have  come  to  him,  that  the  "  rough v  is  quite 
melted,  and  begins  a  better  course  of  life. 

Again,  he  is  going  down  a  narrow  street,  when  he 
suddenly  sees  coming  up  a  bitter  enemy.    His  old  fire 


A  REMARKABLE  CHANGE. 


291 


flames  up,  but  lie  quenches  it,  walks  to  the  other,  and, 
with  the  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks,  he  takes 
him  by  the  hand  and  tells  him  u  the  old  story"  which 
is  always  new,  and  the  two  ruffians  forget  their  feuds 
and  are  friends. 

Could  the  old  Greek  philosopher  have  seen  this 
imbruted  athlete,  so  mysteriously  and  suddenly  fired 
with  the  ideal  of  Love  till  his  past  crimes  seemed 
melted  in  the  heat  of  this  great  sentiment,  and  his 
rough  nature  appeared  transformed,  he  would  have 
rejoiced  in  beholding  at  length  the  living  embodiment 
of  an  ideal  theory  for  so  many  ages  held  but  as  the 
dream  of  a  poetic  philosopher. 

Gardner  was  only  a  modern  and  striking  instance 
of  the  natural  and  eternal  power  of  Christianity. 

We  resolved  to  put  him  where  he  could  reach  the 
classes  from  which  he  had  come.  With  considerable 
exertion  the  necessary  sums  were  raised  to  open  a 
"  Coffee  and  Reading  Room"  in  the  worst  district  of 
the  city — the  Fourth  Ward.  Great  numbers  of  papers 
and  publications  were  furnished  gratuitously  by  that 
body  who  have  always  been  so  generous  to  this  enter- 
prise— the  conductors  of  the  press  of  the  city.  A  bar 
for  coffee  and  cheap  refreshments  was  established, 
and  Gardner  was  put  at  the  head  of  the  whole  as 
superintendent. 


292    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


THE  DKTOTKABDS'  CLUB 

The  opening  is  thus  described  in  our  Journal : — 

"  We  must  confess,  as  one  of  the  managers  of  that  institu- 
tion, we  felt  particularly  nervous  about  that  opening  meeting. 

"  Messrs  Beecher  and  Cochrane  and  other  eminent  speakers 
had  been  invited  to  speak,  and  the  Mayor  was  to  preside.  It 
was  certainly  an  act  of  some  self-denial  to  leave  their  country- 
seats  or  cool  rooms,  and  spend  a  hot  summer  evening  in  talking 
to  Fourth-ward  rowdies.  To  requite  this  with  any  sort  of 
'  accident '  would  have  been  very  awkward.  Where  would  we 
of  the  committee  have  hid  our  heads  if  our  friends  the  '  roughs ' 
had  thought  best  to  have  a  little  bit  of  a  shindy,  and  had  knocked 
Brother  Beecher's  hat  in,  and  had  tossed  the  Hon.  John  Coch- 
rane out  of  the  window,  or  rolled  the  Mayor  down-stairs  ?  We 
confess  all  such  possible  eventualities  did  present  themselves, 
and  we  imagined  the  sturdy  form  of  our  eminent  clerical  friend 
breasting  the  opposing  waves  of  rowdies,  and  showing  himself 
as  skillful  in  demolishing  corporeal  enemies  as  he  is  in  over- 
throwing spiritual.  We  were  comforted  in  spirit,  however,  by 
remembering  that  the  saint  at  the  head  of  our  establishment — 
the  renowned  Gardner — would  now  easily  take  a  place  in  the 
church  militant,  and  perhaps  not  object  to  a  new  exercise  of 
muscle  in  a  good  cause. 

******** 

"After  other  addresses,  Gardner — 'Awful  Gardner' — was 
called  for.  He  came  forward — and  a  great  trial  it  must  have 
been  to  have  faced  that  crowd,  where  there  were  hundreds  who 
had  once  been  with  him  in  all  kinds  of  debaucheries  and  devil- 
tries— men  who  had  drunk  and  fought  and  gambled  and  acted 
the  rowdy  with  him — men  very  quick  to  detect  any  trace  of 
vanity  or  cant  in  him.  He  spoke  very  simply  and  humbly  ;  said 
that  he  had  more  solid  peace  and  comfort  in  one  month  now 
than  he  had  in  years  once  ;  spoke  of  his  '  black  life/  his  sins  and 
disgrace,  and  then  of  his  most  cordial  desire  to  welcome  all  his 
old  companions  there.  In  the  midst  of  these  remarks  there 
seemed  to  come  up  before  him  suddenly  a  memory  of  Him  who 
had  saved  him,  his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and,  with  a  manly  and 


u  AWFUL  GrARDNER." 


293 


deep  feeling  that  swept  right  through  the  wild  audience,  he 
made  his  acknowledgment  to  '  Him  who  sticketh  closer  than  a 
brother — even  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ/ 

"  No  sermon  could  have  been  half  so  effective  as  these  stam- 
mering ungrammatical,  but  manly  remarks." 

Our  Beading-room  under  this  guidance  became 
soon  a  very  popular  resort ;  in  fact,  it  deserved  the 
nickname  one  gentleman  gave  it,  "The  Drunkards' 
Club."  The  marked,  simple,  and  genuine  reform  in  a 
man  of  such  habits  as  this  pugilist,  attracted  numbers 
of  that  large  class  of  young  men  who  are  always  try- 
ing to  break  from  the  tyranny  of  evil  habits  and  vices. 
The  rooms  used  to  be  thronged  with  reformed  or 
reforming  young  men.  The  great  difficulty  with  a 
man  under  vices  is  to  make  him  believe  that  change 
for  him  is  possible.  The  sight  of  Gardner  always 
demonstrated  this  possibility.  Those  men  who  are 
sunk  in  such  courses  cannot  get  rid  of  them  gradually, 
and  nothing  can  arouse  them  and  break  the  iron  rule 
of  habits  but  the  most  tremendous  truths. 

u  Awful  Gardner  "  had  but  one  theory  of  reform — 
absolute  and  immediate  change,  in  view  of  the  love 
of  Christ,  and  of  a  deserved  and  certain  damnation. 

The  men  to  whom  he  spoke  needed  no  soft  words ; 
they  knew  they  were  "in  hell"  now;  some  of  them 
could  sometimes  for  a  moment  realize  what  such  a 
character  as  Christ  was,  and  bow  before  it  in  unspeak- 
able humility.    No  one  whom  I  have  ever  seen  could 


294    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES.  OF  NEW  YORK, 


so  influence  the  " roughs"  of  this  city.    He  ought  to 
have  been  kept  as  a  missionary  to  the  rowdies. 
I  extract  from  our  Journal : — 

"  The  moral  success  of  the  room  has  been  all  that  we  could  have 
desired.  Hundreds  of  young  men  have  come  there  continually 
to  read  or  chat  with  their  friends — many  of  them  even  who  had 
habitually  frequented  the  liquor-saloons,  and  many  persons  with 
literally  no  homes.  The  place,  too, has  become  a  kind  of  central 
point  for  all  those  who  have  become  more  or  less  addicted  to 
excessive  drinking,  and  who  are  desirous  of  escaping  from  the 
habit. 

"  There  are  days  when  the  spectacle  presented  there  is  a  most 
affecting  one  ;  the  room  filled  with  young  men,  each  of  whom  has 
a  history  of  sorrow  or  degradation — broken-down  gentlemen, 
ruined  merchants,  penniless  clerks,  homeless  laboring-men  and 
printers  (for  somehow  this  most  intelligent  profession  seems  to 
contain  a  large  number  of  cases  who  have  been  ruined  by 
drunkenness),  and  outcast  men  of  no  assignable  occupation. 
These  have  been  attracted  in  part  by  the  cheerfulness  of  the 
room  and  the  chances  for  reading,  and  in  part  by  Gardner's  in- 
fluence, who  has  labored  indef  atigably  in  behalf  of  these  poor 
wretches.  Under  the  influences  of  the  Room,  incredible  as  it 
may  seem,  over  seven  hundred  of  these  men  have  been  started  in 
sober  courses  and  provided  with  honest  employments,  and  many 
of  them  have  become  hopefully  religious.  It  is  believed  that 
the  whole  quarter  has  been  improved  by  the  opening  of  this 
agreeable  and  temperate  place  of  resort." 

But,  alas !  even  with  a  man  so  truly  repentant  and 
reformed,  Nature  does  not  let  him  off  so  easily.  He 
had  to  bear  in  his  body  the  fruits  of  his  vices.  His 
nervous  system  began  to  give  way  under  the  fearful 
strain  both  of  his  sins  and  his  reform.  He  found  it 
necessary  to  leave  this  post  of  work  and  retire  to  a 


FREE  READING-ROOMS. 


295 


quiet  place  in  Kew  Jersey,  where  he  has  since  passed 
a  calm  and  virtuous  life,  working,  I  suppose,  at  his 
trade,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  he  has  never  been  false 
to  the  great  truths  which  once  inspired  him.  With 
his  departure,  however,  we  thought  it  best  to  close 
the  Beading-room,  especially  as  we  could  not  realize 
our  hope  of  making  it  self-supporting.  So  ended  the 
second  of  our  experiments  at  u  virtuous  amusements." 

I  now  resolved  to  try  the  experiment,  without  any 
expectation  of  sustaining  the  room  with  sales  of  re- 
freshments. The  working  classes  seem  to  be  utterly 
indifferent  to  such  attractions.  They  probably  cannot 
compete  a  moment  with  those  of  the  liquor-shops. 
With  the  aid  of  friends,  who  are  always  ready  in  this 
city  to  liberally  support  rational  experiments  of  philan- 
thropy, we  have  since  then  opened  various  Free  Bead- 
ing-rooms in  different  quarters  of  the  city. 

One  of  the  most  successful  was  carried  on  by  Mr. 
Macy  at  Cottage  Place  for  his  "  lambs." 

Here  sufficient  books  and  papers  were  supplied  by 
friends,  little  temperance  and  other  societies  were 
formed,  the  room  was  pleasant  and  cozy,  and,  above 
all,  Mr.  Macy  presided  or  infused  into  it  his  spirit. 
The  "  lambs"  were  occasionally  obstreperous  and 
given  to  smashing  windows,  but  to  this  Mr.  M.  was 
sufficiently  accustomed,  and  in  time  the  wild  young 
barbarians  began  to  feel  the  influences  thrown  around 
the  place,  until  now  one  may  see  of  a  winter  evening 


296    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

eighty  or  a  hundred  lads  and  young  men  quietly  read- 
ing, or  playing  backgammon  or  checkers. 

The  room  answers  exactly  its  object  as  a  place  of 
innocent  amusement  and  improvement,  competing 
with  the  liquor-saloons.  The  citizens  of  the  neighbor- 
hood have  testified  to  its  excellent  moral  influences  on 
the  young  men. 

A  similar  room  was  opened  in  the  First  Ward  by 
the  kind  aid  of  the  late  Mr.  J.  Couper  Lord,  and 
the  good  influences  of  the  place  have  been  much 
increased  by  the  exertions  of  Mr.  D.  E.  Hawley  and 
a  committee  of  gentlemen. 

There  are  other  Beading-rooms  connected  with  the 
Boys'  Lodging-houses.  Most  of  them  are  doing  an 
invaluable  work ;  the  First  ward  room  especially 
being  a  centre  for  cricket-clubs  and  various  social  re- 
unions of  the  laboring  classes,  and  undoubtedly  sav- 
ing great  numbers  of  young  men  from  the  most  dan- 
gerous temptations.  Mr.  Hawley  has  inaugurated 
here  also  a  very  useful  course  of  popular  lectures  to 
the  laboring  people. 

This  Beading-room  is  crowded  with  young  men 
every  night,  of  the  class  who  should  be  reached,  and 
who  would  otherwise  spend  their  leisure  hours  at  the 
liquor-saloons.  Many  of  them  have  spoken  with  much 
gratitude  of  the  benefit  the  place  has  been  to  them. 

The  Beading-rooms  connected  with  Boys'  Lodging- 
houses,  though  sometimes  doing  well,  are  not  uni- 


FREE  READING-ROOMS.  297 


formly  successful,  perhaps  from  the  fact  that  working- 
men  do  not  like  to  be  associated  with  homeless  boys. 

Besides  those  connected  with  the  Children's  Aid 
Society,  the  City  Mission  and  various  churches  have 
founded  others,  so  that  now  the  Free  Reading-room  is 
recognized  as  one  of  the  means  for  improving  the 
"  dangerous  classes/7  as  much  as  the  Sunday  School, 
Chapel,  or  Mission. 

The  true  theory  of  the  formation  of  the  Beading- 
room  is  undoubtedly  the  inducing  the  laboring  class 
to  engage  in  the  matter  themselves,  and  then  to  assist 
them  in  meeting  the  expenses.  But  the  lowest  poor 
and  the  young  men  who  frequent  the  grog-shops  are 
so  indifferent  to  mental  improvement,  and  so  seldom 
associate  themselves  for  any  virtuous  object,  that  it  is 
extremely  difficult  to  induce  them  to  combine  for  this. 

Moreover,  as  they  rise  in  the  social  scale,  they  find 
organizations  ready  to  hand,  like  the  "  Cooper  Union," 
where  Beading-rooms  and  Libraries  are  provided  gra- 
tuitously. For  the  present,  the  Beading-room  may  be 
looked  upon,  like  the  Public  School,  as  a  means  of 
improvement  offered  by  society,  in  its  own  interest, 
to  all. 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 


HOMELESS  GIRLS. 

It  was  a  fortunate  event  for  our  charity  which  led, 
in  1861,  a  certain  New  York  merchant  to  accept  the 
position  of  President  of  our  Society. 

Mr.  William  A.  Booth  had  the  rare  combination 
of  qualities  which  form  a  thorough  presiding  officer, 
and  at  the  same  time  he  was  inspired  by  a  spirit  of 
consecration  to  what  he  believed  his  Master's  service, 
rarely  seen  among  men.  His  faculty  of  u  rolling  off" 
business,  of  keeping  his  assembly  or  board  on  the 
points  before  them — for  even  business  men  have  some- 
times the  female  tendency  of  rather  wide-reaching 
discussions  and  conversations — his  wonderful  clearness 
of  comprehension,  and  a  judicial  faculty  which  nearly 
always  enabled  him  to  balance  with  remarkable  fair- 
ness both  sides  of  a  question,  made  him  beyond  com- 
parison the  best  presiding  officer  for  a  business-board 
I  have  ever  seen.  With  him,  we  always  had  short 
and  very  full  sessions,  and  reached  our  points  rapidly 
and  efficiently.  He  had,  too,  the  capacity,  rare  among 
men  of  organizing  brains,  of  accepting  a  rejection  or 
rebuff  to  any  proposition  he  may  have  made  (though 


PRESIDENT  OF  OUR  BOARD. 


299 


this  happened  seldom)  with  perfect  good  humor. 
Perhaps  more  than  with  his  public  services  in  our 
Board,  I  was  struck  with  his  private  career.  Hour 
after  hour  in  his  little  office,  I  have  seen  different  com- 
mittees and  officials  of  numerous  societies,  charities, 
and  financial  associations  come  to  him  with  their 
knotty  points,  and  watched  with  admiration  as  he  dis- 
entangled each  question,  seeming  always  to  strike 
upon  the  course  at  once  wise  and  just.  A  very  small 
portion  of  his  busy  time  was  then  given  to  his  own 
interests,  though  he  had  been  singularly  successful  in 
his  private  affairs.  He  seemed  to  me  to  carry  out 
wonderfully  the  Christian  ideal  in  practical  life  in  a 
busy  city ;  living  day  after  day  u  for  others,"  and  to 
do  the  will  of  Him  whom  he  followed. 

In  our  first  labors  together,  I  feared  that,  owing  to 
his  stricter  school  of  Presbyterian  theology,  we  might 
not  agree  in  some  of  our  aims  and  plans;  but  the 
practical  test  of  true  benefit  to  these  unfortunate  chil- 
dren soon  brought  our  theoretic  views  to  a  harmony 
in  religious  practice ;  and  as  we  both  held  that  the 
first  and  best  of  all  truths  to  an  outcast  boy  is  the 
belief  and  love  of  Christ  as  a  friend  and  Saviour,  we 
agreed  on  the  substantial  matter.  I  came,  year  by 
year,  greatly  to  value  his  judgment  and  his  clear 
insight  as  to  the  via  media. 

Both  with  him  and  our  Treasurer,  Mr.  Williams, 
the  services  of  love  rendered  so  many  years  to  this 


300    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

cause  of  humanity,  could  not,  as  mere  labor,  have 
been  purchased  with  very  lucrative  salaries. 

Mr.  Booth's  wise  policy  with  the  Society  was  to 
encourage  whatever  would  give  it  a  more  permanent 
foot-hold  in  the  city,  and,  in  this  view,  to  stimulate 
especially  the  founding  of  our  Lodging-houses  by 
means  of  u  funds,"  or  by  purchasing  buildings. 

How  this  plan  succeeded,  I  shall  detail  here- 
after. 

At  this  present  stage  in  our  history,  his  attention 
was  especially  fixed  on  the  miserable  condition  of  the 
young  street-girls,  and  he  suggested  to  me  what  I  had 
long  been  hoping  for,  the  formation  of  a  Lodging-house 
for  them,  corresponding  to  that  which  had  been  so 
successful  with  the  newsboys. 

As  a  preparatory  step,  I  consulted  carefully  the 
police.  They  were  sufficiently  definite  as  to  the  evil, 
but  not  very  hopeful  as  to  the  cure. 

THE  STREET-GIRLS. 

I  can  truly  say  that  no  class  we  have  ever  labored 
for  seemed  to  combine  so  many  elements  of  human 
misfortune  and  to  present  so  many  discouraging  fea- 
tures as  this.  They  form,  indeed,  a  class  by  them- 
selves. 

Their  histories  are  as  various  as  are  the  different 
lots  of  the  inhabitants  of  a  populous  town.  Some 
have  come  from  the  country,  from  kind  and  respecta- 


THE  HOMELESS. 


.  '301 

ble  homes,  to  seek  work  in  the  city ;  here  they  grad- 
ually consume  their  scanty  means,  and  are  driven 
from  one  refuge  to  another,  till  they  stand  on  the 
street,  with  the  gayly-lighted  house  of  vice  and  the 
gloomy  police-station  to  choose  between.  Others  have 
sought  amusement  in  the  town,  and  have  been  finally 
induced  to  enter  some  house  of  bad  character  as  a 
boarding-house,  and  have  been  thus  entrapped;  and 
finally,  in  despair,  and  cursed  with  disease,  they  break 
loose,  and  take  shelter  even  in  the  prison-cell,  if  neces- 
sary. Others  still  have  abandoned  an  ill-tempered 
step-mother  or  father,  and  rushed  out  on  the  streets  to 
find  a  refuge,  or  get  employment  anywhere. 

Drunkenness  has  darkened  the  childhood  of  some, 
and  made  home  a  hideous  place,  till  they  have  been 
glad  to  sleep  in  the  crowded  cellar  or  the  bare  attic  of 
some  thronged  u  tenement,"  and  then  go  forth  to  pick 
up  a  living  as  they  could  in  the  great  metropolis. 
Some  are  orphans,  some  have  parents  whom  they 
detest,  some  are  children  of  misfortune,  and  others  of 
vice;  some  are  foreigners,  some  native.  They  come 
from  the  north  and  the  south,  the  east  and  the  west ; 
all  races  and  countries  are  represented  among  them. 
They  are  not  habitually  vicious,  or  they  would  not  be 
on  the  streets.  They  are  unlucky,  unfortunate,  getting 
a  situation  only  to  lose  it,  and  finding  a  home,  to  be 
soon  driven  from  it.  Their  habits  are  irregular,  they 
do  not  like  steady  labor,  they  have  learned  nothing 


302    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

well,  they  have  no  discipline,  their  clothes  are  neg- 
lected, they  have  no  appreciation  of  what  neatness  is, 
yet  if  they  earn  a  few  shillings  extra,  they  are  sure 
to  spend  them  on  some  foolish  gewgaw.  Many  of 
them  are  pretty  and  bright,  with  apparently  fine  capa- 
cities, but  inheriting  an  unusual  quantity  of  the  human 
tendencies  to  evil.  They  are  incessantly  deceived  and 
betrayed,  and  they  as  constantly  deceive  others. 
Their  cunning  in  concealing  their  indulgences  or  vices 
surpasses  all  conception.  Untruth  seems  often  more 
familiar  to  them  than  truth.  Their  worst  quality  is 
their  superficiality.  There  is  no  depth  either  to  their 
virtues  or  vices.  They  sin,  and  immediately  repent 
with  alacrity ;  they  live  virtuously  for  years,  and  a 
straw  seems  suddenly  to  turn  them.  They  weep  at 
the  presentation  of  the  divine  character  in  Christ,  and 
pray  with  fervency;  and,  the  very  next  day,  may  ruin 
their  virtue  or  steal  their  neighbor's  garment,  or  take 
to  drinking,  or  set  a  whole  block  in  ferment  with  some 
biting  scandal.  They  seem  to  be  children,  but  with 
woman's  passion,  and  woman's  jealousy  and  scathing 
tongue.  They  trust  a  superior  as  a  child ;  they  neglect 
themselves,  and  injure  body  and  mind  as  a  child 
might;  they  have  a  child's  generosity,  and  occasional 
freshness  of  impulse  and  desire  of  purity;  but  their 
passions  sweep  over  them  with  the  force  of  maturity, 
and  their  temper,  and  power  of  setting  persons  by  the 
ears,  and  backbiting,  and  occasional  intensity  of  hate, 


THE  GIRLS'  LODGING-HOUSE. 


303 


belong  to  a  later  period  of  life.  Not  unfrequently, 
when  real  danger  or  severe  sickness  arouses  them, 
they  show  the  wonderful  qualities  of  womanhood  in 
a  power  of  sacrifice  which  utterly  forgets  self,  and  a 
love  which  shines  brightly,  even  through  the  shadow 
of  death. 

But  their  combination  of  childishness  and  undisci- 
plined maturity  is  an  extremely  difficult  one  to  manage 
practically,  and  exposes  them  to  endless  sufferings  and 
dangers.  Their  condition  fifteen  years  ago  seemed  a 
thoroughly  hopeless  one. 

There  was  then,  if  we  mistake  not,  but  a  single 
refuge  in  the  whole  city,  where  these  unfortunate 
creatures  could  take  shelter,  and  that  was  Mr.  Pease's 
Five  Points  Mission,  which  contained  so  many  women 
who  had  been  long  in  vicious  courses,  as  to  make  it 
unsuitable  for  those  who  were  just  on  the  dividing 
line. 

Our  plan  for  their  relief  took  the  shape  of 

THE  GIRLS'  LODGLN-G-HOUSE. 

It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  this  instrument 
of  charity  and  reform  has  cost  us  more  trouble  than 
all  our  enterprises  together. 

The  simple  purpose  and  plan  of  it  was,  like  that  of 
our  other  efforts,  to  reform  habits  and  character 
through  material  and  moral  appliances,  and  subse- 
quently through  an  entire  change  of  circumstances, 


304     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

and  at  the  same  time  to  relieve  suffering  and  misfor- 
tune. 

We  opened  first  a  shelter,  where  any  drifting, 
friendless  girl  could  go  for  a  night's  lodging.  If  she 
had  means,  she  was  to  pay  a  trifling  sum — five  or  six 
cents ;  if  not,  she  aided  in  the  labor  of  the  house,  and 
thus  in  part  defrayed  the  expense  of  her  hoard. 
Agents  were  sent  out  on  the  docks  and  among  the 
slums  of  the  city  to  pick  up  the  wayfarers  j  notices 
were  posted  in  the  station-houses,  and  near  the  ferries 
and  railroads  depots,  and  even  advertisements  put 
into  the  cheap  papers.  We  made  a  business  of  scat- 
tering the  news  of  this  charity  wherever  there  were 
forlorn  girls  seeking  for  home  or  protection,  or  street- 
wandering  young  women  who  had  no  place  to  lay 
their  heads. 

We  hoped  to  reach  down  the  hand  of  welcome  to 
the  darkest  dens  of  the  city,  and  call  back  to  virtue 
some  poor,  unbefriended  creature,  who  was  trembling 
on  the  very  line  between  purity  and  vice.  Our  charity 
seemed  to  stand  by  the  ferries,  the  docks,  the  police- 
stations,  and  prisons,  and  open  a  door  of  kindness  and 
virtue  to  these  hard-driven,  tired  wanderers  on  the 
ways  of  life.  Our  design  was  that  no  young  girl,  sud- 
denly cast  out  on  the  streets  of  a  great  city,  should  be 
without  a  shelter  and  a  place  where  good  influences 
could  surround  her.  We  opened  a  House  for  the  house- 
less ;  an  abode  of  Christian  sympathy  for  the  utterly  un- 


A  HOME  FOR  THE  HOMELESS. 


305 


befriended  and  misguided ;  a  place  of  work  for  the  idle 
and  unthrifty. 

The  plan  seemed  at  once  to  reach  its  object: 
the  doors  opened  on  a  forlorn  procession  of  unfor- 
tunates. Girls  broke  out  of  houses  of  vice,  where 
they  had  been  entrapped,  leaving  every  article  of 
dress,  except  what  they  wore,  behind  them;  the 
police  brought  wretched  young  wanderers,  who  had 
slept  on  the  station-floors ;  the  daughters  of  decent 
country-people,  who  had  come  to  the  town  for  amuse- 
ment or  employment,  and,  losing  or  wasting  their 
means,  had  walked  the  streets  all  the  night  long, 
applied  for  shelter ;  orphans  selling  flowers,  or  ped- 
dling about  the  theatres;  the  children  of  drunkards; 
the  unhappy  daughters  of  families  where  quarreling 
and  abuse  were  the  rule ;  girls  who  had  run  away ; 
girls  who  had  been  driven  away;  girls  who  sought  a 
respite  in  intervals  of  vice, — all  this  most  unfortunate 
throng  began  to  beset  the  doors  of  the  "  Girls'  Lodg- 
ing-house. " 

We  had  indeed  reached  the  class  intended,  but 
now  our  difficulties  only  began 

It  would  not  do  to  turn  our  Lodging-house  into  a 
Eeformatory  for  Magdalens,  nor  to  make  it  into  a  con- 
venient resting-place  for  those  who  lived  on  the  wages 
of  lust.  To  keep  a  house  for  reforming  young  women  of 
bad  character  would  only  pervert  those  of  good,  and 
shut  out  the  decent  and  honest  poor.    We  must  draw  a 


306    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

line ;  but  where  ?  We  attempted  to  receive  only  those 
of  apparent  honesty  and  virtue,  and  to  exclude  those 
who  were  too  mature ;  keeping,  if  possible,  below  the 
age  of  eighteen  years.  We  sought  to  shut  out  the 
professional  u  street- walkers.77  This  at  once  involved 
us  in  endless  difficulties.  Sweet  young  maidens,  whom 
we  guilelessly  admitted,  and  who  gave  most  touching 
stories  of  early  bereavement  and  present  loneliness, 
and  whose  voices  arose  in  moving  hymns  of  penitence, 
and  whose  bright  eyes  filled  with  tears  under  the 
Sunday  exhortation,  turned  out  perhaps  the  most 
skillful  and  thorough-going  deceivers,  plying  their  bad 
trade  in  the  day,  and  filling  the  minds  of  their  com- 
rades with  all  sorts  of  wickedness  in  the  evening. 
We  came  to  the  conviction  that  these  girls  would 
deceive  the  very  elect.  Then  some  u  erring  child  of 
poverty,"  as  the  reporters  called  her,  would  apply  at  a 
late  hour  at  the  door,  after  an  unsuccessful  evening,  her 
breath  showing  her  habit,  and  be  refused,  and  go  to  the 
station-house,  and  in  the  morning  a  fearful  narrative 
would  appear  in  some  paper,  of  the  shameful  hypoc- 
risy and  cruel  machinery  of  charitable  institutions. 

Or,  perhaps,  she  would  be  admitted,  and  cover  the 
house  with  disgrace  by  her  conduct  in  the  night.  One 
wayfarer,  thus  received,  scattered  a  contagious  disease, 
which  emptied  the  whole  house,  and  carried  off  the 
housekeeper  and  several  lodgers.  Another,  in  the  night 
dropped  her  newly-born  dead  babe  into  the  vault. 


OUR  DIFFICULTIES. 


307 


The  rule,  too,  of  excluding  all  over  eighteen  years 
of  age  caused  great  discontent  with  the  poor,  and 
with  certain  portions  of  the  public.  And  yet,  as 
rigidly  as  humanity  would  allow,  we  must  follow  our 
plan  of  benefiting  children  and  youth. 

It  soon  turned  out,  however,  that  the  young  street- 
children  who  were  engaged  in  street-trades,  had 
some  relative  to  whom  tfieir  labor  was  of  profit,  so 
that  they  gradually  drifted  back  to  their  cellars 
and  attics,  and  only  occasionally  took  a  night's 
lodging  when  out  late  near  the  theatre.  Those 
who  were  the  greatest  frequenters  of  the  House 
proved  to  be  the  young  girls  between  fourteen  and 
eighteen. 

And  a  more  difficult  class  than  these  to  manage, 
no  philanthropic  mortal  ever  came  in  contact  with. 
The  most  had  a  constitutional  objection  to  work ;  they 
had  learned  to  do  nothing  well,  and  therefore  got  but 
little  wages  anywhere;  they  were  shockingly  care- 
less, both  of  their  persons  and  their  clothing,-  and, 
Vorse  than  all,  they  showed  a  cunning  and  skill  of 
deceit  and  a  capacity  of  scandal,  and  of  setting 
the  family  by  the  ears  in  petty  quarrels  and  jealous- 
ies, which  might  have  discouraged  the  most  sanguine 
reformer. 

The  matron,  Mrs.  Trott,  who  had  especially  to 
struggle  with  these  evils,  had  received  a  fitting  pre- 
paratory training:  she  had  taught  in  the  "Five 


308    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Points."  She  was  a  thorough  disciplinarian  5  believed 
in  work,  and  was  animated  by  the  highest  Christian 
earnestness. 

As  years  passed  by,  the  only  defect  that  appeared 
in  her  was,  perhaps,  what  was  perfectly  natural  in 
such  circumstances.  The  sins  of  the  world,  and  the 
calamities  of  the  poor,  began  to  weigh  on  her  mind, 
until  its  spring  was  fairly  bent.  Society  seemed  to 
her  diseased  with  the  sin  against  purity.  The  outcast 
daughters  of  the  poor  had  no  chance  in  this  hard 
world.  All  the  circumstances  of  life  were  against  the 
friendless  girl.  Often,  after  most  self-denying,  and, 
to  other  minds,  successful  efforts  to  benefit  these 
poor  creatures,  some  enthusiastic  spectator  would 
say,  "  How  much  good  you  are  doing ! 79  "  Well,"  she 
would  say,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  sometimes  hope  so!" 

Once,  I  asked  her  if  she  could  not  write  a  cheerful 
report  for  our  trustees,  giving  some  of  the  many  en- 
couraging facts  she  knew. 

To  my  dismay,  when  the  document  appeared,  the 
first  two  pages  were  devoted  to  a  melancholy  recollec- 
tion of  the  horrible  typhus  which  had  once  desolated 
the  household !  I  think,  finally,  her  mind  took  almost 
a  sad  pleasure  in  dwelling  on  the  woes  and  miseries 
of  humanity.  Still,  even  with  this  constitutional 
weight  on  her,  she  did  her  work  for  those  unfortunate 
girls  faithfully  and  devotedly. 

The  great  danger  and  temptation  of  such  establish- 


A  LODGINGKHOTJSE,  NOT  ASYLUM. 


309 


ments,  as  I  have  always  found,  are  in  the  desire  of 
keeping  the  inmates,  and  showing  to  the  public  your 
"  reforms."  My  instruction  always  was,  that  the 
"Girls'  Lodging-house"  was  not  to  be  a  "Home." 
We  did  not  want  to  make  an  asylum  of  it.  We 
hoped  to  begin  the  work  of  improvement  with  these 
young  girls,  and  then  leave  them  to  the  natural 
agencies  of  society.  To  teach  them  to  work,  to  be 
clean,  and  to  understand  the  virtues  of  order  and 
punctuality ;  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  housekeeper 
or  servant ;  to  bring  the  influences  of  discipline,  of 
kindness,  and  religion  to  bear  on  these  wild  and  un- 
governed  creatures — these  were  to  be  the  great  objects 
of  the  "Lodging-house;"  then  some  good  home  or 
respectable  family  were  to  do  the  rest.  We  were  to 
keep  lodgers  a  little  while  only,  and  then  to  pass 
them  along  to  situations  or  places  of  work. 

The  struggles  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Trott,  the  superin- 
tendent and  matron,  against  these  discouraging  evils 
in  the  condition  and  character  of  this  class,  would 
make  a  history  in  itself.  They  set  themselves  to  work 
upon  details,  with  an  abounding  patience,  and  with  a 
humanity  which  was  not  to  be  wearied. 

The  first  effort  was  to  teach  the  girls  something 
like  a  habit  of  personal  cleanliness ;  then,  to  enforce 
order  and  punctuality,  of  which  they  knew  nothing  ; 
next,  to  require  early  rising,  and  going  to  bed  at  a 
reasonable  hour.    The  lessons  of  housekeeping  were 


310    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

begun  at  the  foundation,  being  tasks  in  scrubbing 
and  cleaning;  then,  bed-making,  and  finally  plain 
cooking,  sewing,  and  machine-work.  Some  of  the 
inmates  went  out  for  their  daily  labor  in  shops  or  fac- 
tories; but  the  most  had  to  be  employed  in  house- work, 
and  thus  paid  for  their  support.  They  soon  carried  on 
the  work  of  a  large  establishment,  and  at  the  same 
time  made  thousands  of  articles  of  clothing  for  the 
poor  children  elsewhere  under  the  charge  of  the  Society. 

A  great  deal  of  stress,  of  course,  was  laid  on  relig- 
ious and  moral  instruction.  The  girls  always  "  list- 
ened gladly,"  and  were  easily  moved  by  earnest  and 
sympathetic  teaching  and  oratory. 

Fortunately  for  the  success  of  this  Charity,  one 
of  our  trustees,  a  man  filled  with  u  the  milk  of  human 
kindness,"  Mr.  B.  J.  Howland,  took  part  in  it,  as  if  it 
were  his  main  occupation  in  life.  Twice  in  the  week, 
he  was  present  with  these  poor  girls  for  many  years, 
teaching  them  the  principles  of  morality  and  religion, 
training  them  in  singing,  contriving  amusements  and 
festivals  for  them,  sympathizing  in  their  sorrows  and 
troubles,  until  he  became  like  a  father  and  counselor 
to  these  wild,  heedless  young  creatures. 

When,  at  length,  the  good  old  man  departs — 
et  serus  in  ecelum  redeat ! — the  tears  of  the  friendless 
and  forgotten  will  fall  on  his  grave, 

"  And  the  blessings  of  the  poor 
Shall  waft  him  to  the  other  shore." 


INCIDENTS. 


311 


Of  the  effects  of  the  patient  labors  of  years,  we 
will  quote  a  few  instances  from  Mrs.  Trott's  journal. 
She  is  writing,  in  the  first  extract,  of  a  journey  at  the 
West  :— 

"  Several  stations  were  pointed  out,  where  our  Lodging 
house  girls  are  located ;  and  we  envied  them  their  quiet,  rural 
homes,  wishing  that  others  might  follow  their  example.  Maggie 
M.,  a  bright  American  girl,  who  left  us  last  spring,  was  fresh 
in  our  memory,  as  we  almost  passed  her  door.  The  friendless 
child  bids  fair  to  make  an  educated,  respectable  woman.  She 
writes  of  her  advantages  and  privileges,  and  says  she  intends  to 
improve  them,  and  make  the  very  best  use  of  her  time. 

"  Our  old  friend,  Mary  F.,  is  still  contented  and  happy  ;  she 
shows  no  inclination  to  return,  and  remains  in  the  place  pro- 
cured for  her  two  years  ago.  She  often  expresses  a  great  anxiety 
for  several  of  the  girls  whom  she  left  here,  and  have  turned  out 
very  bad.  We  were  rather  doubtful  of  Mary's  intentions  when 
she  left  us,  but  have  reason  for  thankfulness  that  thus  far  she 
tries  to  do  right,  and  leads  a  Christian  life.  She  was  a  girl  well 
informed,  of  £ood  common-sense,  rather  attractive,  and,  we 
doubt  not,  is  '  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning/ 

"  Emma  H.,  a  very  interesting,  amiable  young  girl,  who 
spent  several  months  at  the  Lodge,  while  waiting  for  a  good 
opening,  has  just  been  to  visit  us.     She  is  living  with  Mrs.  H., 

Judge  B  's  daughter,  on  the  Hudson.    They  are  mutually, 

pleased  with  each  other  ;  and  Mrs.  B.  says  that  '  Emma  takes  an 
adopted  daughter's  place,  and  nothing  would  tempt  me  to  par 
with  her/  Emma  was  well  dressed,  and  as  comfortably  situated 
as  one  could  wish.  There  is  no  reason  why  she  should  not  edu- 
cate herself,  and  fill  a  higher  position  in  the  future. 

"  S.  A.  was  a  cigar-girl  when  she  came  to  the  Lodging-house 
six  years  ago.  An  orphan,  friendless  and  homeless — we  all 
knew  her  desire  to  obtain  an  education,  her  willingness  to  make 
any  sacrifice,  and  put  up  with  the  humblest  fare,  that  she  might 
accomplish  this  end ;  and  then  her  earnest  desire  to  do  good, 
and  her  consistent  Christian  character,  since  she  united  with 
the  Church,  and  the  real  missionary  she  proved  among  the 


312     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


girls,  when  death  was  in  the  house,  leaving  her  school,  and 
assisting  night  and  day  among  the  sick.  She  is  now  completing 
her  education,  and  will  soon  graduate  with  honors.  Her  teacher 
speaks  of  her  in  the  highest  terms. 

"  There  was  another,  J.  L.,  a  very  pretty  little  girl,  who  was 
with  us  at  the  same  time,  who  was  guilty  of  the  most  aggravat- 
ing petty  thefts.  She  was  so  modest  and  pleasing  in  her 
demeanor,  so  sincere  in  her  attachments,  that  it  was  difficult  to 
believe,  until  she  acknowledged  her  guilt,  that  she  had  picked 
the  pockets  of  the  very  persons  to  whom  she  had  made  showy 
presents.  Vanity  was  her  ruling  motive — a  desire  to  appear 
smart  and  generous,  and  to  show  that  she  had  rich  friends,  who 
supplied  her  with  money.  She  was  expostulated  with  long  and 
tenderly,  promised  to  reform,  and  has  lately  united  with  a  church 
where  she  is  an  active  and  zealous  member.  We  have  never 
heard  a  word  respecting  her  dishonesty  since  she  left  us,  and 
she  now  occupies  a  responsible  position  as  forewoman  in  a 
Broadway  store. 

"  P.  E.  was  also  a  Lodging-house  girl,  a  year  or  more,  at  the 
same  time.  She  came  to  us  in  a  very  friendless,  destitute  con- 
dition. She  was  one  of  the  unfortunates  with  the  usual  story 
of  shame  and  desertion — she  had  just  buried  her  child,  and 
needed  an  asylum.  We  have  every  reason  to  believe  her  re- 
pentance sincere,  and  that  she  made  no  false  pretensions  to 
piety  when  her  name  was  added  to  the  list  of  professing 
Christians.  The  church  took  an  unusual  interest  in  her,  and 
have  paid  her  school  expenses  several  years.  She  is  now 
teaching. 

"  Our  next  is  Mary  M.  Here  is  a  bit  of  romance.  When  she 
first  entered  our  home,  she  was  reduced  to  the  very  lowest  extrem- 
ity of  poverty  and  wretchedness.  She  remained  with  us  some 
time,  and  then  went  to  a  situation  in  Connecticut,  where  she 
married  a  young  Southern  gentleman,  who  fell  desperately  in 
love  with  her  (because  she  cared  for  him  when  ill),  returned  to 
New  York,  and,  when  she  called  upon  us,  was  boarding  at  the 
Fifth-avenue  Hotel.  This  was  noticed  at  the  time  in  several 
Eastern  and  New  York  papers.  She  showed  her  gratitude  to  us 
by  calling  and  making  presents  to  members  of  the  House — look- 
ing up  an  associate,  whom  she  found  in  a  miserable  garret 


THE  FRUITS. 


313 


clothing  her,  and  returning  her  to  her  friends.  She  greatly  sur- 
prised us  in  the  exhibition  of  the  true  womanly  traits  which  she 
always  manifested.  This  is  a  true  instance  of  the  saying  that  a 
resident  of  the  Five  Points  to-day  may  he  found  in  her  home  in 
Fifth  Avenue  to-morrow. 

"  Without  going  into  details,  we  could  also  mention  S.H.,who 

has  often  been  in  our  reports  as  unmanageable  ;  the  two  D  

girls,  who  came  from  Miss  Tracy's  school ;  the  two  M   sis- 
ters, who  had  a  fierce  drunken  mother,  that  pawned  their  shoes 
for  rum  one  cold  winter's  morn,  before  they  had  arisen  from 

their  wretched  bed ;  two  R         sisters,  turned  into  the  streets 

by  drunken  parents,  brought  to  our  house  by  a  kind-hearted 
expressman,  dripping  with  rain ;  and  little  May,  received,  cold 
and  hungry,  one  winter's  day — all  comfortably  settled  in  coun- 
try homes;  most  of  them  married,  and  living  out  West— not 
forgetting  Maggie,  the  Irish  girl  who  wrote  us,  soon  after 
she  went  West,  that  her  husband  had  his  little  farm,  pigs, 
cow,  etc. ;  requesting  us  to  send  them  a  little  girl  for  adoption. 
Her  prospect  here  never  would  have  been  above  a  garret  or 
cellar. 

"  We  have  L.  M.  in  New  York,  married  to  a  mechanic.  Every 
few  months  she  brings  a  bundle  of  clothing  for  those  who  were 
once  her  companions.  She  is  very  energetic  and  industrious, 
and  highly  respected. 

"  M.  E.,  another  excellent  Christian  girl.  She  has  been  greatly 
tried  in  trying  to  save  a  reckless  sister  from  destruction ;  once 
she  took  her  West ;  then  she  returned  with  her  when  she  found 
her  sister's  condition  made  it  necessary.  Such  sisterly  affection 
is  seldom  manifested  as  this  girl  has  shown.  She  bought  her 
clothing  out  of  her  own  earnings,  when  she  had  scarcely  a  change 
for  herself ;  and,  after  the  erring  sister's  death,  paid  her  child's 
board,  working  night  and  day  to  do  so. 

"  These  cases  are  true  in  every  particular,  and  none  of  recent 
date.  There  are  many  more  hopeful  ones  among  our  young 
girls,  who  have  not  been  away  from  us  long,  and  of  whom  we 
hear  excellent  reports." 

One  of  the  best  features  of  this  most  practical 
"institution"  for  poor  girls  is  a  Sewing-machine 

id 


314    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

School,  where  lessons  are  given  gratuitously.  In  three 
weeks,  a  girl  who  had  previously  depended  wholly  on 
her  needle,  and  could  hardly  earn  her  three  dollars  a 
week,  will  learn  the  use  of  the  machine,  and  earn  from 
one  dollar  to  two  dollars  per  day. 

During  one  year  this  Sewing-machine  School  sent 
forth  some  one  thousand  two  hundred  poor  girls,  who 
earned  a  good  living  through  their  instruction  there. 
The  expense  was  trifling,  as  the  machines  were  all 
given  or  loaned  by  the  manufacturers,  and  for  the 
room,  we  employed  the  parlor  of  the  Lodging- 
house. 

During  the  winter  of  1870-71,  the  trustees  deter- 
mined to  try  to  secure  a  permanent  and  convenient 
house  for  these  girls. 

Two  well-known  gentlemen  of  our  city  headed  the 
subscription  with  $1,000  each;  the  trustees  came  for- 
ward liberally,  and  the  two  or  three  who  have  done  so 
much  for  this  charity  took  on  themselves  the  disa- 
greeable task  of  soliciting  funds,  so  that  in  two 
months  we  had  some  $27,000  subscribed,  with 
which  we  both  secured  an  excellent  building  in 
St.  Mark's  Place,  and  adapted  it  for  our  purposes. 
Our  effort  is  in  this  to  make  the  house  more  attract- 
ive and  tasteful  than  such  places  usually  are  ;  and 
various  ladies  have  co-operated  with  us,  to  exert 
a  more  profound  and  renovating  influence  on  these 
girls. 


SCHOOL  FOR  SERVANTS. 


315 


TRAINT^G-SCHOOL  FOR  SERVANTS. 

We  have  already  engrafted  on  this  Lodging-house 
a  School  to  train  ordinary  house-servants;  to  teach 
plain  cooking,  waiting,  the  care  of  bedrooms,  and  good 
laundry- work.  Nothing  is  more  needed  among  this 
class,  or  by  the  public  generally,  than  such  a  u  Train- 
ing-school." 

Of  the  statistics  of  the  Lodging-house,  Mrs.  Trott 
writes  as  follows  : — 

"  Ten  thousand  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  lodgers.  What 
an  army  would  the  registered  names  make,  since  a  forlorn, 
wretched  child  of  thirteen  years,  from  the  old  Trinity  station- 
house,  headed  the  lists  in  1861 ! 

"  Among  this  number  there  are  many  cozily  sitting  by  their 
own  hearth-stones  ;  others  are  filling  positions  of  usefulness  and 
trust  in  families  and  stores ;  some  have  been  adopted  in  distant 
towns,  where  they  fill  a  daughter's  place ;  and  some  have  gone 
to  return  no  more.    A  large  number  we  cannot  trace. 

"During  this  period,  three  thousand  one  hundred  and  one 
have  found  employment,  and  gone  to  situations,  or  returned  to 
friends. 

"  Fifteen  thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty-nine  garments 
have  been  cut  and  made,  and  distributed  among  the  poor,  or  used 
as  outfits  in  sending  companies  West." 


CHAPTEE  XXVI. 


THE  NINETEENTH-STREET  GANG  OF  RUFFIANS. 
A  MORAL  "DISINFECTANT." 

During  the  summer  of  1865,  I  was  present  in  Lon- 
don as  a  delegate  to  the  International  Beformatory 
Convention,  and  had  the  opportunity,  for  the  second 
or  third  time,  to  investigate  thoroughly  the  preventive 
and  reformatory  institutions  of  Great  Britain. 

On  my  return  I  found  that  the  President  of  our 
Board,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken,  had  taken  a 
lease  of  a  building  in  a  notorious  quarter. 

His  idea  was  that  some  of  my  observations  in  Eng- 
land might  be  utilized  here  and  tested  in  a  preventive 
institution.  The  quarter  was  well  known  to  me.  It 
had  been  the  home  and  school  of  the  murderous  gang 
of  boys  and  young  men  known  as 

"THE  NINETEENTH-STREET  GANG." 

It  happens  that  the  beginnings  and  the  process  of 
growth  of  this  society  of  young  criminals  were  thor- 
oughly known  by  me  at  the  time,  and,  as  one  case  of 
this  kind  illustrates  hundreds  going  on  now,  I  will 
describe  it  in  detail : — 


"NINETEENTH-STREET  GANG."  317 

Seventeen  years  ago,  my  attention  had  been  called 
to  the  extraordinarily  degraded  condition  of  the  chil- 
dren in  a  district  lying  on  the  west  side  of  the  city, 
between  Seventeenth  and  Nineteenth  Streets,  and  the 
Seventh  and  Tenth  Avenues.  A  certain  block,  called 
"  Misery  Bow,"  in  Tenth  Avenue,  was  the  main  seed- 
bed of  crime  and  poverty  in  the  quarter,  and  was  also 
invariably  a  u  fever-nest."  Here  the  poor  obtained 
wretched  rooms  at  a  comparatively  low  rent ;  these  they 
sub-let,  and  thus,  in  little,  crowded,  close  tenements, 
were  herded  men,  women,  and  children  of  all  ages.  The 
parents  were  invariably  given  to  hard  drinking,  and 
the  children  were  sent  out  to  beg  or  to  steal.  Besides 
them,  other  children,  who  were  orphans,  or  who  had 
run  away  from  drunkards'  homes,  or  had  been  work- 
ing on  the  canal-boats  that  discharged  on  the  docks 
near  by,  drifted  into  the  quarter,  as  if  attracted  by  the 
atmosphere  of  crime  and  laziness  that  prevailed  in  the 
neighborhood.  These  slept  around  the  breweries  of 
the  ward,  or  on  the  hay-barges,  or  in  the  old  sheds  of 
Eighteenth  and  Nineteenth  Streets.  They  were  mere 
children,  and  kept  life  together  by  all  sorts  of  street- 
jobs — helping  the  brewery  laborers,  blackening  boots, 
sweeping  sidewalks,  "  smashing  baggages"  (as  they 
called  it),  and  the  like.  Herding  together,  they  soon 
began  to  form  an  unconscious  society  for  vagrancy 
and  idleness.  Finding  that  work  brought  but  poor 
pay,  they  tried  shorter  roads  to  getting  money  by 


318    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

pettey  thefts,  in  which  they  were  very  adroit.  Even 
if  they  earned  a  considerable  sum  by  a  lucky  day's 
job,  they  quickly  spent  it  in  gambling,  or  for  some 
folly. 

The  police  soon  knew  them  as  "  street-rats ;"  but, 
like  the  rats,  they  were  too  quick  and  cunning  to  be 
often  caught  in  their  petty  plunderings,  so  they 
gnawed  away  at  the  foundations  of  society  undis- 
turbed. As  to  the  "  popular  education "  of  which  we 
boast,  and  the  elevating  and  inspiring  faith  of  Chris- 
tianity which  had  reared  its  temples  all  around  them, 
they  might  almost  as  well  have  been  the  children  of 
the  Makololos  in  Central  Africa.  They  had  never 
been  in  school  or  church,  and  knew  of  God  and  Christ 
only  in  street-oaths,  or  as  something  of  which  people 
far  above  them  spoke  sometimes. 

I  determined  to  inaugurate  here  a  regular  series 
of  the  "  moral  disinfectants,"  if  I  may  so  call  them,  for 
this  "  crime-nest,"  which  act  almost  as  surely,  though 
not  as  rapidly,  as  do  the  physical  disinfectants — the 
sulphate  of  iron,  the  chloride  of  lime,  and  the  various 
deodorizers  of  the  Board  of  Health — in  breaking  up 
the  "fever-nests"  of  the  city. 

These  measures,  though  imitated  in  some  re- 
spects from  England,  were  novel  in  their  combina- 
tion. 

The  first  step  in  the  treatment  is  to  appoint  a 
kind-hearted  agent  or  "  Visitor,"  who  shall  go  around 


MORAL  "  DISINFECTANTS." 


319 


the  infected  quarter,  and  win  the  confidence  of,  and 
otherwise  befriend  the  homeless  and  needy  children 
of  the  neighborhood.  Then  we  open  an  informal,  sim- 
ple, religious  meeting — the  Boys'  Meeting  which  I 
have  described;  next  we  add  to  it  a  free  Beading- 
room,  then  an  Industrial  School,  afterwards  a  Lodg- 
ing-house ;  and,  after  months  or  years  of  the  patient 
application  of  these  remedies,  our  final  and  most 
successful  treatment  is,  as  I  have  often  said,  the 
forwarding  of  the  more  hopeful  cases  to  farms  in 
the  West. 

While  seeking  to  apply  these  long-tried  remedies 
to  the  wretched  young  population  in  the  Sixteenth 
Ward,  I  chanced  on  a  most  earnest  Christian  man,  a 
resident  of  the  quarter,  whose  name  I  take  the  liberty 
of  mentioning — Mr.  D.  Slater,  a  manufacturer. 

He  went  around  himself  through  the  rookeries  of 
the  district,  and  gathered  the  poor  lads  even  in  his 
own  parlor ;  he  fed  and  clothed  them ;  he  advised  and 
prayed  with  them.  We  opened  together  a  religious 
meeting  for  them.  Nothing  could  exceed  their  wild 
and  rowdy  conduct  in  the  first  gatherings.  On  one  or 
two  occasions  some  of  the  little  ruffians  absolutely 
drew  knives  on  our  assistants,  and  had  to  be  handed 
over  to  the  police.  But  our  usual  experience  was  re- 
peated even  there.  Week  by  week  patient  kindness 
and  the  truths  of  Christianity  began  to  have  their 
effect  on  these  wild  little  heathen  of  the  street.  We 


320    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


find,  in  our  Journal  of  1856,  the  following  entries 
(P-  11):- 

"  The  other  meeting  has  been  opened  in  the  hall,  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Sixteenth  Street  and  Eighth  Avenue,  by  Mr.  D.  Slater. 
It  had,  in  the  beginning,  a  rather  stormy  time,  being  frequented 
by  the  rowdy  and  thieving  boys  of  the  quarter.  Mr.  S.  has  once 
or  twice  been  obliged  to  call  in  the  help  of  the  police,  and  to 
arrest  the  ringleaders.  Now,  however,  by  his  patient  kindness 
and  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  the  lads,  he  has  gained  a  perma- 
nent influence.  The  police  have  remarked  how  much  less  the 
streets,  on  a  Sunday,  have  been  infested,  since  he  opened  the 
meeting,  with  vagabond  boys.  Several  notorious  street-boys 
have  abandoned  their  bad  habits,  and  now  go  regularly  to  the 
Public  Schools,  or  are  in  steady  business.  The  average  attend- 
ance the  first  month  was  33 ;  it  is  now  162.  The  average  evening 
attendance  is  104. 

"  There  is  a  family  of  four  boys,  all  orphans,  whom  their 
friends  could  do  nothing  with,  and  turned  into  the  streets.  They 
lived  by  petty  stealing,  and  slept  in  hay-lofts  in  winter,  and  on 
stoops  or  in  coal-boxes  in  summer.  Since  they  came  to  the 
meeting  they  have  all  gone  to  work ;  they  attend  Public  School, 
and  come  regularly  to  evening  meeting.  They  used  to  be  in 
rags  and  filth,  but  now  are  clean  and  well  dressed.  Their  uncle 
came  to  me  and  said  the  meeting  had  done  them  more  good  than 
all  their  friends  together." — (Mr.  Slater's  Report.) 

"  Yesterday,  Mr.  Slater  brought  a  thin,  sad  boy  to  us — had 
found  him  in  the  streets  and  heard  his  story,  and  then  gave  him 
a  breakfast,  and  led  him  up  to  our  office.  The  lad  seemed  like 
one  weary  almost  of  living.  '  Where  are  your  father  and  mother, 
my  boy  ? '  '  Both  dead,  sir.'  '  Where  are  your  other  relatives  or 
friends  ? '  '  Haint  got  no  friends,  sir ;  I've  lived  by  myself  on  the 
street/  '  Where  did  you  stay V  'I  slept  in  the  privy  sometime, 
sir ;  and  then  in  the  stables  in  Sixteenth  Street.'  '  Poor  fellow/ 
said  some  one, '  how  did  you  get  your  living  ? '  '  Begged  it — and 
then,  them  stable-men,  they  give  me  bread  sometimes/  '  Have 
you  ever  been  to  school,  or  Sunday  School  ? '  '  No,  sir.'  So  the 
sad  story  went  on.  Within  two  blocks  of  our  richest  houses,  a 
desolate  boy  grows  up,  not  merely  out  of  Christianity  and  out  of 


YOUNG  BUFFIANS. 


321 


education,  but  out  of  a  common  human  shelter,  and  of  means  of 
livelihood. 

"The  vermin  were  creeping  over  him  as  he  spoke.  A  few 
days  before  this,  Mr.  S.  had  brought  up  three  thorough-going 
street-boys — active,  bold,  impudent,  smart  fellows — a  great  deal 
more  wicked  and  much  less  miserable  than  this  poor  fellow. 
Those  three  were  sent  to  Ohio  together,  and  this  last  boy,  after 
a  thorough  washing  and  cleansing,  was  to  be  dispatched  to  Illi- 
nois. A  later  note  adds  :  '  The  lad  was  taken  by  an  old  gentle- 
man of  property,  who,  being  childless,  has  since  adopted  the  boy 
as  his  own,  and  will  make  him  heir  to  a  property/  " 

Several  other  lads  were  helped  to  an  honest  liveli- 
hood. A  Visitor  was  then  appointed,  who  lived  and 
worked  in  the  quarter.  But  our  moral  treatment  for 
this  nest  of  crime  had  only  commenced. 

We  appealed  to  the  public  for  aid  to  establish  the 
reforming  agencies  which  alone  can  cure  these  evils, 
and  whose  foundation  depends  mainly  on  the  liberal- 
ity, in  money,  of  our  citizens.  We  warned  them  that 
these  children,  if  not  instructed,  would  inevitably 
grow  up  as  ruffians.  We  said  often  that  they  would 
not  be  like  the  stupid  foreign  criminal  class,  but  that 
their  crimes,  when  they  came  to  maturity,  would  show 
the  recklessness,  daring,  and  intensity  of  the  Ameri- 
can character.  In  our  very  first  report  (for  1854)  we 
said: — 

"  It  should  be  remembered  that  there  are  no  dangers  to  the 
value  of  property,  or  to  the  permanency  of  our  institutions,  so 
great  as  those  from  the  existence  of  such  a  class  of  vagabond, 
ignorant,  ungoverned  children.  This  '  dangerous  class '  has  not 
begun  to  show  itself,  as  it  will  in  eight  or  ten  yea|6,  when  these 
boys  and  girls  are  matured.    Those  who  were  too  negligent,  or 


322    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


too  selfish  to  notice  them  as  children,  will  be  fully  aware  of 
them  as  men.  They  will  vote — they  will  have  the  same  rights 
as  we  ourselves,  though  they  have  grown  up  ignorant  of  moral 
principle,  as  any  savage  or  Indian.  They  will  poison  society. 
They  will  perhaps  be  embittered  at  the  wealth  and  the  luxuries 
they  never  share.  Then  let  .society  beware,  when  the  outcast, 
vicious,  reckless  multitude  of  New  York  boys,  swarming  now  in 
every  foul  alley  and  low  street,  come  to  know  their  power  and 
use  it!  " 

Again,  in  1857,  we  said:—* 

"  Why  should  the  '  street-rat/  as  the  police  call  him — the  boy 
whose  home  in  sweet  childhood  was  a  box  or  a  deserted  cellar ; 
whose  food  was  crumbs  begged  or  bread  stolen  ;  whose  influences 
of  education  were  kicks  and  cuffs,  curses,  neglect,  destitution 
and  cold ;  who  never  had  a  friend,  who  never  heard  of  duty 
either  to  society  or  God — why  should  he  feel  himself  under  any 
of  the  restraints  of  civilization  or  of  Christianity  ?  Why  should 
he  be  anything  but  a  garroter  and  thief  ?  " 

*  *  *  #  *  *  #  * 

"  Is  not  this  crop  of  thieves  and  burglars,  of  shoulder-hitters 
and  short-boys,  of  prostitutes  and  vagrants,  of  garroters  and 
murderers,  the  very  fruit  to  be  expected  from  this  seed,  so  long 
being  sown  ?  What  else  was  to  be  looked  for  ?  Society  hurried 
on  selfishly  for  its  wealth,  and  left  this  vast  class  in  its  misery 
and  temptation.  Now  these  children  arise  and  wrest  back,  with 
bloody  and  criminal  hands,  what  the  world  were  too  careless  or 
too  selfish  to  give.  The  worldliness  of  the  rich,  the  indifference 
of  all  classes  to  the  poor,  will  always  be  avenged.  Society  must 
act  on  the  highest  principles,  or  its  punishment  incessantly  comes 
within  itself.  The  neglect  of  the  poor,  and  tempted,  and  crimi- 
nal, is  fearfully  repaid."    (Pp.  5,  6.) 

But  the  words  fell  on  inattentive  ears. 

We  found  ourselves  unable  to  continue  our  reform- 
ing agencies  in  the  Sixteenth  Ward ;  no  means  were 
supplied;  our  Visitor  was  dismissed,  the  meeting 


"  NINETEENTH-STREET  GANG."  323 

closed;  Mr.  Slater  moved  away,  heavily  out  of  pocket 
with  his  humane  efforts,  and  much  discouraged 
with  the  indifference  of  the  Christian  community  to 
these  tremendous  evils;  and  the  "Mneteenth-street 
dang"  grew  up  undisturbed  in  its  evil  courses,  taking 
new  lessons  in  villainy  and  crime,  and  graduating  in 
the  manner  the  community  has  felt  the  past  few 
years.  Both  the  police  and  the  public  have  noted  the 
extraordinary  recklessness  and  ferocity  of  their  crimes. 
One,  a  mere  lad,  named  Rogers,  committed  a  murder, 
a  few  years  ago,  on  a  respectable  gentleman,  Mr. 
Swanton,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  in  the  open  street, 
on  the  west  side  of  the  city.  He  was  subsequently 
executed.  Some  have  been  notorious  thieves  and  bur- 
glars. 

Another  murdered  an  unoffending  old  man,  Mr. 
Rogers,  in  open  day,  before  his  own  door,  and  near 
the  main  thoroughfare  of  the  city.  The  whole  com- 
munity was  deeply  thrilled  by  this  horrible  murder, 
and,  though  three  of  the  "Gang"  were  arrested,  the 
offender  was  never  discovered.  Subsequently,  one  of 
the  suspected  young  men  was  murdered  by  one  of  his 
own  "  pals." 

The  amount  of  property  they  have  destroyed  would 
have  paid  the  expense  of  an  Industrial  School,  Read- 
ing-room, Lodging-house  and  our  other  agencies  for 
them,  ten  times  over. 

Now  and  then  we  have  rescued  two  or  three  broth- 


324    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

ers  of  theni,  and  have  seen  them  become  honest  and 
industrious  farmers  in  the  West,  while  one  of  the  same 
family,  remaining  here,  would  soon  be  heard  of  in  Sing 
Sing  or  the  city  prisons. 

The  history  of  the  growth  of  the  "  Nineteenth- 
street  Gang "  is  only  one  example  of  the  histories  of 
scores  of  similar  bands  of  ruffians  now  in  process  of 
formation  in  the  low  quarters  of  the  city. 

Our  preventive  agency  was  now  placed,  through 
the  especial  assistance  of  one  of  our  trustees,  in  a 
better  building,  in  Eighteenth  Street.  Here  we  had 
all  our  moral  u  disinfectants  "  under  one  roof,  in  the 
best  possible  efficiency. 

The  person  to  be  appointed  Superintendent,  whom 
I  had  accidentally  encountered,  was  a  "  canny  Scotch- 
man," and  proved  singularly  adapted  to  the  work. 
I  feared  at  first  that  he  was  u  too  pious  "  for  his 
place;  as  experience  shows  that  a  little  leaven  of 
carnal  habits,  and  the  jolly  good  nature  which  Relig- 
ion ought  only  to  increase,  but  which,  when  mis- 
applied, it  does  sometimes  somewhat  contract,  is  use- 
ful in  influencing  these  young  heathen  of  the  street. 
Perhaps  they  are  so  far  down  in  the  moral  scale,  that 
too  strict  a  standard,  when  first  applied  to  them,  tends 
to  repel  or  discourage  them. 

I  particularly  dreaded  our  friend's  devotional 
exercises.  But  time  and  experience  soon  wore  off  the 
Scotch  Presbyterian  starch,  and  showed  that  the 


OUR  SUPERINTENDENT.  325 

"root  of  the  matter"  was  in  him.  The  first  quality 
needed  in  such  a  position  is  patience — a  spirit 
which  is  never  discouraged  by  ingratitude  or  wearied 
out  by  ill  conduct.  This  our  apparently  somewhat 
sternly-righteous  superintendent  could  attempt  to 
show. 

Then,  next,  the  guide  of  such  lads  must  be  just — 
inflexibly  just — and  exact  in  the  smallest  particulars ; 
for,  of  all  things  which  a  street-boy  feels,  is  first  any 
neglect  of  obligations. 

This  virtue  was  easy  to  the  superintendent.  He 
had,  too,  in  him  a  deep  well  of  kindness  for  the  forlorn 
and  unfortunate,  which  the  lads  soon  appreciated. 
To  my  great  satisfaction,  at  this  time  a  gentleman 
threw  himself  into  the  movement,  who  possessed 
those  qualities  which  always  command  success,  and 
especially  the  peculiarities  with  which  boys  instinct- 
ively sympathize. 

He  was  gifted  with  a  certain  vitality  of  tem- 
perament and  rich  power  of  enjoyment  of  every- 
thing human,  which  the  rough  lads  felt  imme- 
diately. He  evidently  liked  horses  and  dogs ;  a 
drive  four-in-hand,  and  a  gallop  "to  hounds,"  were 
plainly  things  not  opposed  to  his  taste.  He  appre- 
ciated a  good  dinner  (as  the  boys  happily  dis- 
covered), and  had  no  moral  scruples  at  a  cigar,  or 
an  occasional  glass  of  wine. 

All  this  physical  energy  and  richness  of  tempera- 


326    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

ment  seemed  to  accompany  him  in  his  religious  and 
philanthropical  life.  He  was  indefatigable  in  his 
efforts  for  the  good  of  the  lads ;  he  conducted  their 
religious  meeting  every  Sunday  evening ;  he  ad- 
vised and  guided,  he  offered  prizes,  gave  festivals 
and  dinners,  supplied  reasonable  wants,  and  corre- 
sponded with  them.  And,  at  length,  to  crown  his 
efforts,  he  proposed  to  a  few  friends  to  purchase 
the  house,  and  make  it  a  home  for  the  homeless 
boys  forever. 

This  benevolent  measure  was  carried  through  with 
the  same  energy  with  which  he  manages  his  business, 
and  the  street-boys  of  the  west  side  of  New  York  will 
long  feel  the  fruits  of  it. 

For  our  own  and  the  public  benefit,  our  worthy 
superintendent  had,  among  his  other  qualities,  what 
was  of  immense  importance  for  his  work — the  true 
Scotch  economy. 

No  manufacturer  ever  managed  his  factory,  no 
hotel-keeper  ever  carried  on  his  establishment  with 
such  an  eye  for  every  penny  of  useless  expenditure,  as 
this  faithful  manager  of  trust-funds  looked  after  every 
item  of  cost  in  this  School  and  Lodging-house.  Thus, 
for  instance,  during  the  month  of  May  last,  he  lodged 
eighty  boys  every  night,  and  fed  them  with  two  meals, 
at  a  cost  to  each  lodger  of  five  cents  for  a  meal  and  five 
cents  for  lodging,  at  the  same  time  feeding  and  lodg- 


ECONOMY. 


327 


ing  some  gratuitously.  The  boys  were  kept  clean,  had 
enough  to  eat,  and  were  brought  under  all  the  good 
moral  and  mental  influences  of  the  House;  and,  at  the 
end  of  the  month,  the  institution  had  not  only  cost 
nothing  to  the  public,  but  Mr.  Gourley  absolutely 
turned  over  eleven  dollars  and  sixty-five  cents  to  the 
Society.  That  is,  his  rent  being  paid,  he  had  managed 
to  keep  his  boys,  pay  the  wages  and  food  of  three 
servants,  a  night-watchman,  and  errand-boy,  and  the 
salaries  and  table  expenses  of  the  superintendent, 
matron,  and  their  family  of  four  children.  If  this  is 
not  "  economical  charity,"  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find  it. 

On  one  occasion  the  patience  of  our  worthy  super- 
intendent was  put  to  a  severe  test. 

For  two  years  he  fed  and  lodged  two  youthful 
"vessels  of  wrath."  They  were  taught  in  the  Mght- 
school,  they  were  preached  to,  and  prayed  with  in  the 
Sunday  meeting,  they  were  generously  feasted  in  the 
Thanksgiving  and  Christmas  festivals.  At  last,  as 
the  crowning  work  of  benevolence,  he  clothed  and 
cleaned  them,  and  took  them  with  him  to  find  them  a 
home  in  the  Far  West. 

Here,  when  they  had  reached  the  land  of  independ- 
ence, they  began  to  develop  "  the  natural  man  "  in  a 
most  unpleasant  form. 

They  would  not  go  to  the  places  selected  ;  their 
language  was  so  bad  that  the  farmers  would  not  take 


328     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

them ;  finally,  after  their  refusing  to  take  places  where 
they  were  wanted,  and  making  themselves  generally 
disagreeable,  Mr.  Gourley  had  to  inform  the  lads  that 
they  must  shift  for  themselves !  Hereupon  they  turned 
upon  their  benefactor  with  the  vilest  language.  Sub- 
sequently they  met  him  in  the  streets  of  the  Western 
town,  and  were  about  to  show  themselves — what  a 
Western  paper  calls — u  muscular  orphans,"  by  a  vigor- 
ous assault  on  their  benevolent  protector ;  but  finding, 
from  the  bearing  of  our  excellent  brother,  that  he  had 
something  of  the  old  Covenanter's  muscle  in  him,  and 
could  show  himself,  if  necessary,  a  worthy  member  of 
the  old  Scotch  "  Church  militant,"  they  wisely  avoided 
the  combat. 

Mr.  Gourley  returned  home  down-hearted,  his  high 
Calvinistic  views  of  the  original  condition  of  the 
human  heart  not  being  weakened  by  his  experience. 
We  all  felt  somewhat  discouraged ;  but,  as  if  to  show 
us  that  human  nature  is  never  to  be  despaired  of,  Mr. 
Gourley  afterwards  received  the  following  amende 
from  the  two  ingrates  : — 

HOPEFUL  NEWS  PROM  HARD  CASES. 

"  P  ,  Mich.,  June  6, 1870. 

"  Mr.  J.  Gourley  : 

"  Dear  Sir — Knowing  that  you  are  one  of  those  who  can  for- 
get and  forgive,  I  take  the  liberty  of  writing  these  few  lines  to 

you,  hoping  that  I  will  not  offend  you  by  so  doing.     W  and 

I  both  wish  to  return  our  thanks  to  the  Society  for  giving  us 
the  aid  they  have.    We  are  now  both  in  a  fair  way  of  making- 


u  MUSCULAR  ORPHANS." 


329 


men  of  ourselves.  We  are  happy  to  think  that  we  are  free  from 
the  evil  temptations  that  the  poor  boys  of  New  York  are  exposed 
to.  We  are  respected  by  all  who  know  us  here.  Boys  of  New 
York  little  know  of  the  pleasure  there  is  to  be  found  in  a  home 
in  the  'Far  West.'  We  expect  to  stay  here  for  two  years  yet, 
and  then  make  a  short  visit  to  New  York.  We  would  like  to 
visit  the  '  Old  Hotel/  if  you  have  no  objection.  We  would  like 
to'  have  you  write  and  let  us  know  how  the  boys  are  getting 
along,  and  if  little  Skid  and  Dutchy  are  still  in  the  hotel.  I 
would  advise  all  boys  who  have  no  home  to  go  West,  and  they 

will  be  sure  to  find  one.    W  is  foreman  on  the  largest  farm 

in  the  town,  and  has  hired  for  three  years  at  one  hundred  dollars 
per  year,  and  found  in  everything.  I  am  working  in  a  saw-mill 
this  summer.  I  worked  on  a  farm  the  first  winter  and  summer. 
Last  winter  I  worked  in  the  lumber- wood,  and  this  summer  I 
will  try  the  mill.  I  get  twenty  dollars  a  month,  and  have  since 
I  left  you  at  the  depot.  We  both  went  to  work  the  next  day. 
I  wish  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  answer  this,  and  oblige  your 
obedient  servants, 

"B.  T. 
"M.  W." 

TABULAR  STATEMENT  SINCE  ORGANIZATION. 


No.  of 

No.  Pro- 

Meals. 

vided  for. 

Expenses, 

.  Receipts. 

48,511 

272 

$6,205  48 

$3,053  40 

39,401 

159 

5,141  08 

4,065  25 

25,345 

127 

7,923  58 

3,068  53 

15,429 

37 

3,832  04 

1,995  21 

27,932 

86 

4,766  55 

3,510  84 

30,693 

69 

4,224  51 

3,586  67 

Year. 

1866  to  1867.... 

1867  to  1868.... 

1868  to  1869. ... 
1869,  9  months 

1869  to  1870.... 

1870  to  1871.... 

Totals. .. 


No.  of  No.  of 
Boys.  Lodgings. 

847  15,389 

952  23,933 

890  22,921 

563  15,506 

919  25,516 

750  28,302 

4,921  131,467 


187,311  751 


$32,093  24  $19,279  90 


The  Eighteenth-street  Lodging-house  has  been 
gradually  and  surely  preventing  the  growth  of  a  fresh 
u  gang"  of  youthful  ruffians  ;  and  has  already  saved 
great  numbers  of  neglected  boys. 


OHAPTEE  XXVII. 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  FLOWERS. 
THE  LITTLE  VAGABONDS  OF  COKLEAH'S  HOOK. 

If  any  of  my  readers  should  ever  be  inclined  to 
investigate  a  very  miserable  quarter  of  the  city,  let 
them  go  down  to  our  "Corlear's  Hook,"  so  infamous 
twenty  years  ago  for  murders  and  terrible  crimes,  and 
then  wind  about  among  the  lanes  and  narrow  streets 
of  the  district.  Here  they  will  find  every  available 
inch  of  the  ground  made  use  of  for  residences,  so  that 
each  lot  has  that  poisonous  arrangement,  a  "  double 
house,"  whereby  the  air  is  more  effectually  vitiated, 
and  a  greater  number  of  human  beings  are  crowded 
together.  From  this  massing-together  of  families,  and 
the  drunken  habits  prevailing,  it  results  very  naturally 
that  the  children  prefer  outdoor  life  to  their  wretched 
tenements,  and,  in  the  milder  months,  boys  and  girls 
live  a  doleefar  niente  life  on  the  docks  and  wood-piles, 
enjoying  the  sun  and  the  swimming,  and  picking  up  a 
livelihood  by  petty  thieving  and  peddling. 

Sometimes  they  all  huddle  together  in  some  cellar, 
boys  and  girls,  and  there  sleep.  In  winter  they  creep 
back  to  the  tenement-houses,  or  hire  a  bed  in  the  vile 


CORLEAR'S  hook. 


331 


lodgings  which  are  found  in  the  Ward.  They  grow 
up,  naturally ,  the  wildest  little  "Topseys"  and  aGa- 
vroches"  that  can  be  found.  Bagged,  impudent,  sharj), 
able  "to  paddle  their  canoe "  through  all  the  rapids  of 
the  great  city — the  most  volatile  and  uncertain  of 
children;  today  in  school,  to-morrow  miles  away; 
many  of  them  the  most  skillful  of  petty  thieves,  and 
all  growing  up  to  prey  on  the  city. 

In  the  midst  of  this  quarter  we  found  an  old  Pub- 
lic School  building — a  dilapidated  old  shell — which 
we  hired  and  refitted.  It  had  the  especial  advantage 
of  being  open  to  air  and  light  on  four  sides.  We  soon 
transformed  it  into  one  of  the  most  complete  and 
attractive  little  agencies  of  instruction  and  charity 
which  ever  arose  in  the  dark  places  of  a  crowded 
metropolis.  We  struck  upon  a  superintendent — Mr. 
G.  Calder — who,  with  other  good  qualities,  had  the 
artistic  gift — who,  by  a  few  flowers,  or  leaves,  or  old 
engravings,  could  make  any  room  look  pleasing.  He 
exerted  his  talent  in  embellishing  this  building,  and 
in  making  a  cheerful  spot  in  the  midst  of  a  ward  filled 
with  rookeries  and  broken-down  tenements.  In  the 
bit  of  a  back  yard  he  created  a  beautiful  garden,  with 
shrubbery  and  flowers,  with  vases  and  a  cool  shaded 
seat — and  these  in  a  place  of  the  size  of  a  respectable 
closet.  There  a  poor  child  could  stand  and  fancy 
herself,  for  a  moment,  far  away  in  the  country. 
Thence,  on  a  spring  morning,  drowning  the  prevalent 


332      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

smells  of  bilge- water  and  sewers,  ascended  the  sweet 
odors  of  hyacinth  and  heliotrope,  sweet- william  and 
violet.  Above,  in  the  school-rooms  and  the  lodging- 
rooms,  these  sweet  flowers  were  scattered  about, 
taming  and  refining,  for  the  time,  the  rough  little 
subjects  who  frequented  them.  Soon  a  novel  reward 
was  proposed,  and  the  best  children  in  the  School 
were  allowed  to  take  a  plant  home  Avith  them,  and, 
if  they  brought  it  back  improved  in  a  few  months, 
to  receive  others  as  a  premium ;  so  that  the  School 
not  merely  distributed  its  light  of  morality  and  in- 
telligence in  the  dreary  dens  of  the  Ward,  but  was 
represented  by  cheerful  and  fragrant  flowers  in  the 
windows  of  poor  men's  homes. 

In  the  School-room,  too,  was  placed  a  little  aqua- 
rium, which  became  an  increasing  source  of  delight  to 
the  young  vagabonds.  Our  diligent  superintendent 
was  not  content.  He  now  built  a  green-house,  and, 
though  no  gardener,  soon  learned  to  care  for  and  raise 
quantities  of  exquisite  flowers,  which  should  brighten 
the  building  in  the  gloomy  winter. 

For  the  Industrial  School  we  procured  a  teacher 
who  taught  as  if  life  and  death  depended  on  the 
issues  of  each  lesson.  She  seemed  to  pour  out  her 
life  on  "  Enumeration,"  and  gave  an  Object-lesson  on 
an  orange  as  if  all  the  future  prospects  of  the  children 
depended  on  it.  Such  a  teacher  could  not  fail  to  in- 
terest the  lively  little  vagrants  of  Eivington  Street. 


THE  POOR  AMONGr  FLOWERS. 


333 


Her  sweet  assistant  was  as  effective  in  her  own  way ; 
so  it  came  that  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  young 
flibbertigibbets  of  the  ward  were  soon  gathered  and 
attempted  to  be  brought  under  the  discipline  of  an 
Industrial  School.  But  it  was  like  schooling  little 
Indians.  A  bright  day  scattered  them  as  a  splash 
scatters  a  school  of  fish,  and  they  disappeared  among 
the  docks  and  boats  of  the  neighborhood.  No  in- 
tellectual attraction  could  compete  with  a  "  target 
company,"  and  the  sound  of  the  fire-bell  drove  all 
lessons  out  of  their  heads.  Still,  patience  and  inge- 
nuity and  devotion  accomplished  here,  as  in  all  our 
schools,  their  work — which,  if  not  u  perfect,"  has  been 
satisfactory  and  encouraging. 

But  this  was  only  a  part  of  our  efforts.  Besides 
the  school  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  children  in  the  day 
from  the  neighborhood,  might  be  found  a  hundred 
boys  gathered  from  boxes,  and  barges,  and  all  conceiv- 
able haunts,  who  came  in  for  school  and  supper  and 
bed. 

Here,  for  some  inscrutable  reason,  the  considerable 
class  of  "canawl-boys,"  or  lads  who  work  on  the  canal- 
boats  of  the  interior,  came  for  harbor.  Besides  our 
Day  and  Mght  Schools,  we  opened  here  also  a  Free 
Beading-room  for  boys  and  young  men  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  we  held  our  usual  Sunday-evening  Meet- 
ing. In  this  meeting,  fortunately  for  its  good  effects, 
various  gentlemen  took  part,  with  much  experience 


334      THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

in  practical  life  and  of  earnest  characters.  One,  a 
young  officer  in  the  ariny,  whose  service  for  his  coun- 
try fitted  him  for  the  service  of  humanity  5  another, 
an  enthusiastic  and  active  young  business  man;  and 
still  another — one  of  those  men  of  calm  judgment, 
profound  earnestness  of  character,  and  an  almost 
princely  generosity,  who,  in  a  foreign  country,  would 
be  at  the  head  of  affairs,  but  here  throw  their  moral 
and  mental  weight  into  enterprises  of  religion  and 
philanthropy. 

The  effects  of  these  Meetings  were  exemplified  by 
many  striking  changes  of  character,  and  instances  of 
resistance  to  temptation  among  the  lads,  which  greatly 
encouraged  us. 

The  building  seemed  so  admirably  adapted  to  our 
work,  that,  emboldened  by  our  success  with  the  Eigh- 
teenth-street House,  we  determined  to  try  to  purchase 
it.  Two  of  our  Trustees  took  the  matter  in  hand. 
One  had  already,  in  the  most  generous  manner,  given 
one-third  of  the  amount  required  for  the  purchase  of 
that  building ;  but  now  he  offered  what  was  still  more 
— his  personal  efforts  towards  raising  the  amount 
needed  here,  $18,000. 

No  such  disagreeable  and  self-denying  work  is 
ever  done,  as  begging  money.  The  feeling  that  you 
are  boring  others,  and  getting  from  their  personal 
regard,  what  ought  to  be  given  solely  for  public 
motives,  and  the  certainty  that  others  will  apply  to 


BEGGINO  MONEY. 


335 


you  as  you  apply  to  them,  and  expect  a  subscription 
as  a  personal  return,  are  all  great  "crosses."  The 
cold  rebuff,  too ;  the  suspicious  negative,  as  if  you 
were  engaged  in  rather  doubtful  business,  are  other 
unpleasant  accompaniments  of  this  business.  And 
yet  it  ought  to  be  regarded  simply  and  solely  as  an 
unpleasant  public  duty.  Money  must  be  given,  or 
refused,  merely  from  public  considerations.  The 
giving  to  one  charity  should  never  leave  an  obli- 
gation that  your  petitioner  must  give  to  another. 
These  few  gentlemen  in  the  city,  of  means  and 
position,  who  do  this  unpleasant  work,  deserve  the 
gratitude  of  the  community. 

No  other  city  in  the  world,  we  believe,  makes  such 
liberal  gifts  from  its  means,  as  does  New  York  towards 
all  kinds  of  charitable  and  religious  objects.  There  is 
a  certain  band  of  wealthy  men  who  give  in  a  propor- 
tion almost  never  known  in  the  history  of  benefac- 
tions. We  know  one  gentleman  of  large  income  who 
habitually,  as  we  understand  from  good  authority, 
bestows,  in  every  kind  of  charitable  and  religious  do- 
nations, $300,000  a  year !  As  a  general  rule,  however, 
the  very  rich  in  New  York  give  very  little.  Our  own 
charity  has  been  mainly  supported  by  the  gifts  of  the 
middle  and  poorer  classes. 

In  this  particular  case,  the  trustee  of  whom  we 
have  spoken  threw  that  enormous  energy  which  has 
already  made  him,  though  a  young  man,  one  of  the  -  * 


336    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YOEK. 

foremost  business  men  of  the  city,  into  this  labor. 
With  him  was  associated  a  refined  gentleman,  who 
could  reach  many  with  invested  wealth.  Under  this 
combination  we  soon  raised  the  required  sum,  and 
all  had  the  profound  satisfaction  of  seeing  a  tem- 
porary aHome  for  Homeless  Boys"  placed  in  one  of 
the  worst  quarters  of  the  city,  to  scatter  its  bene- 
factions for  future  years,  when  we  are  all  gone. 

During  the  past  year,  a  still  more  beautiful  feature 
has  been  added  to  this  Lodging-house.  We  had  occa- 
sion to  put  up  in  the  rear  a  little  building  for  bath- 
rooms. It  occurred  to  some  gentlemen  who  are  always 
devising  pleasant  things  for  these  poor  children,  that 
a  green-house  upon  this,  opening  into  the  school-room, 
would  be  a  very  agreeable  feature,  and  that  our  su- 
perintendent's love  for  flowers  could  thus  be  used  in 
the  most  practical  way  for  giving  pleasure  to  great 
numbers  of  poor  children.  A  pretty  conservatory, 
accordingly,  was  erected  on  the  top  of  the  bath-room, 
opening  into  the  audience-room,  so  that  the  little 
street-waifs,  as  they  looked  up  from  their  desks,  had 
a  vista  of  flowers  before  them.  Hither,  also,  were 
invited  the  mothers  of  the  children  in  the  Day-school 
ta  occasional  parties  or  exhibitions;  and  here  the 
plants  were  shown  which  had  been  intrusted  to  them. 

The  room  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  school- 
rooms in  the  city,  and  I  have  no  doubt  its  beautiful 
flowers  are  one  cause  of  the  great  numbers  of  poor 


ELEVENTH-WARD  "  LODGKE."  337 

children  which  flock  to  it?  while  the  influence  of  its 
earnest  teachers,  and  of  the  whole  instrumentality ? 
has  been  to  improve  the  character  of  the  neighboring 
quarter. 

FOUR  TEARS'  WORK  AT  THE  RIVINGTON-STREET  LODGING- 


HOUSE.    (1868,  1869,  1870,  1871.) 

Number  of  different  boys  provided  for. .    2,659 

Number  of  lodgings  furnished   80,344 

Number  of  meals  furnished   78,756 

Number  of  boys  sent  West     161 

Number  of  boys  provided  with,  employment   105 

Number  of  boys  restored  to  friends. ...    *  .  126 

Number  of  boys  patronizing  the  savings-bank.  .  310 

Amount  saved  by  the  boys  $2,873  00 

Total  expenses  26,018  10 

Amount  paid  by  the  boys     8,614  63 


THE  LITTLE  COPPER-STEALERS. 
THE  ELEVENTH- WARD  LODGING-HOUSE. 

The  history  of  this  useful  charity  would  be  only  a 
repetition  of  that  of  the  others.  It  is  placed  among 
the  haunts  which  are  a  favorite  of  the  little  dock- 
thieves,  and  iron  and  copper-stealers,  and  of  all  the 
ragged  crowd  who  live  by  peddling  wood  near  the 
East  River  wharves.  It  has  had  a  checkered  career. 
One  superintendent  was  u  cleaned  out"  twice  on  suc- 
cessive nights,  and  had  his  till  robbed  almost  under 
his  nose.  Another  was  almost  hustled  out  of  the 
dormitory  by  the  youthful  vagabonds ;  but  order  has 
at  length  been  gained;  considerable  numbers  of  the 

15 


338     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

gamins  have  been  turned  into  honest  farmers,  and 
others  are  pursuing  regular  occupations. 

The  Night-school  is  busily  attended  ;  the  Day- 
school  is  a  model  of  industry ;  the  "  Bank 79  is  used, 
and  the  Sunday-evening  Meeting  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  impressive  which  we  have. 

Its  recent  success  and  improvement  are  due  to  the 
personal  interest  and  exertions  of  one  of  our  trustees, 
who  has  thrown  into  this  labor  of  charity  a  charac- 
teristic energy,  as  well  as  the  earnestness  of  a  pro- 
found religious  nature. 

We  have  in  this  building,  also,  a  great  variety  of 
charitable  work  crowded ;  but  we  hope,  through  the 
liberality  which  has  founded  our  o^her  Lodging-houses, 
to  secure  a  more  suitable  building,  which  shall  be  a 
permanent  blessing  to  that  quarter. 


STATISTICS  FROM  ORIGIN  TO  1872. 


Number  of  lodgings  

Number  of  meals  

Sent  West  

Restored  to  friends  

Number  of  different  boys 
Amount  paid  by  boys. 


278 
138 
3,036 
$6,522  23 


67,198 
65,757 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

THE  CHILD-YAGrRANT. 

There  is  without  doubt  in  the  blood  of  most  chil- 
dren—as an  inheritance,  perhaps,  from  some  remote 
barbarian  ancestor — a  passion  for  roving.  There  are 
few  of  us  who  cannot  recall  the  delicious  pleasure  of 
wandering  at  free  will  in  childhood,  far  from  schools, 
houses,  and  the  tasks  laid  upon  us,  and  leading  in 
the  fields  or  woods  a  semi-savage  existence.  In  fact, 
to  some  of  us,  now  in  manhood,  there  is  scarcely  a 
greater  pleasure  of  the  senses  than  to  gratify  u  the 
savage  in  one's  blood,"  and  lead  a  wild  life  in  the 
woods.  The  boys  among  the  poor  feel  this  passion 
often  almost  irresistibly.  Nothing  wall  keep  them  in 
school  or  at  home.  Having  perhaps  kind  parents, 
and  not  a  peculiarly  disagreeable  home,  they  will  yet 
rove  off  night  and  day,  enjoying  the  idle,  lazzaroni 
life  on  the  docks,  living  in  the  summer  almost  in  the 
water,  and  curling  down  at  night,  as  the  animals  do, 
in  any  corner  they  can  find — hungry  and  ragged,  but 
light-hearted,  and  enjoying  immensely  their  vagabond 
life.  Probably  as  a  sensation,  not  one  that  the  street- 
lad  will  ever  have  in  after-life  will  equal  the  delicious 
feeling  of  carelessness  and  independence  with  which 


340     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

he  lies  on  his  back  in  the  spring  sunlight  on  a  pile  of 
dock  lumber,  and  watches  the  moving  life  on  the  river, 
and  munches  his  crust  of  bread.  It  frequently  hap- 
pens that  no  restraint  or  punishment  can  check  this 
Indian-like  propensity. 

A  ROVER  REFORMED. 

We  recall  one  fine  little  fellow  who  was  honest,  and 
truthful,  and  kind-hearted,  but  who,  when  the  roving 
passion  in  the  blood  came  up,  left  everything  and 
spent  his  days  and  nights  on  the  wharves,  and  ram- 
bling about  the  streets.  His  mother,  a  widow,  knew 
only  too  well  what  this  habit  was  bringing  him  to, 
for,  unfortunately,  the  life  of  a  young  barbarian  in 
New  York  has  little  poetry  in  it.  The  youthful  va- 
grant soon  becomes  idle  and  unfit  to  work ;  he  is  hun- 
gry, and  cannot  win  his  food  from  the  waters  and  the 
woods,  like  his  savage  prototype ;  therefore,  he  must 
steal.  He  makes  the  acquaintance  of  the  petty 
thieves,  pickpockets,  and  young  sharpers  of  the  city. 
He  learns  to  lie  and  swear;  to  pick  pockets,  rifle 
street-stands,  and  break  open  shop-windows  or  doors ; 
so  that  this  barbarian  habit  is  the  universal  stepping- 
stone  to  children's  crimes.  In  this  case,  the  worthy 
woman  locked  the  boy  up  in  her  room,  and  sent  down 
word  to  us  that  her  son  would  like  a  place  in  the 
country,  if  the  employer  would  come  up  and  take  him. 

We  dispatched  an  excellent  gentleman  to  her  from 


A  ROVER. 


341 


the  interior,  who  desired  a  "model  boy;"  but,  when 
he  arrived,  he  found,  to  his  dismay,  the  lad  kicking 
through  the  panels  of  the  door,  and  declaring  he 
would  die  sooner  than  go.  The  boy  then  disappeared 
for  a  few  days,  when  his  mother  discovered  him 
ragged  and  half-starved  about  the  docks,  and  brought 
him  home  and  whipped  him  severely.  The  next 
morning  he  was  off  again,  and  was  gone  a  week, 
until  the  police  brought  him  back  in  a  wretched 
condition.  The  mother  now  tried  the  "  Christian 
Brothers,"  who  had  a  fence  ten  feet  high  about  their 
premises,  and  kept  the  lad,  it  was  said,  part  of  the 
time  chained.  But  the  fence  was  mere  sport  to  the 
little  vagrant,  and  he  was  soon  off.  She  then  tried  the 
"  Half-Orphan  Asylum,'7  but  this  succeeded  no  better. 
Then  the  "  Juvenile  Asylum"  was  applied  to,  and  the 
lad  was  admitted  5  but  here  he  spent  but  a  short  pro- 
bation, and  was  soon  beyond  their  reach.  The  mother, 
now  in  desperation,  resolved  to  send  him  to  the  Far 
West,  under  the  charge  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society. 
Knowing  his  habits,  she  led  him  down  by  the  collar  to 
the  office,  sat  by  him  there,  and  accompanied  him  to 
the  railroad  depot  with  the  party  of  children.  He 
was  placed  on  a  farm  in  ^Northern  Michigan,  where, 
fortunately,  there  was  considerable  game  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. To  the  surprise  of  us  all,  he  did  not  at  once 
run  away,  being  perhaps  attracted  by  the  shooting  he 
could  indulge  in,  when  not  at  work. 


342    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

At  length  a  chance  was  offered  him  of  being  a 
trapper,  and  he  began  his  rovings  in  good  earnest. 
From  the  Northern  Peninsula  of  Michigan  to  the 
Bocky  Mountains,  he  wandered  over  the  woods  and 
wilds  for  years,  making  a  very  good  living  by  his  sales 
of  skins,  and  saving  considerable  money.  All  ac- 
counts showed  him  to  be  a  very  honest,  decent,  industri- 
ous lad — a  city  vagrant  about  to  be  a  thief  transformed 
into  a  country  vagrant  making  an  honest  living. 

Our  books  give  hundreds  of  similar  stories,  where 
a  free  country-life  and  the  amusements  and  sports  of 
the  farmers,  when  work  is  slack,  have  gratified  health- 
fully the  vagrant  appetite.  The  mere  riding  a  horse, 
or  owning  a  calf  or  a  lamb,  or  trapping  an  animal  in 
winter,  seems  to  have  an  astonishing  effect  in  cooling 
the  fire  in  the  blood  in  the  city  rover,  and  making  him 
contented. 

The  social  habits  of  the  army  of  little  street- va- 
grants who  rove  through  our  city  have  something 
unaccountable  and  mysterious  in  them.  We  have,  as 
I  have  described,  in  various  parts  of  the  city  little 
"  Stations,"  as  it  were,  in  their  weary  journey  of  life, 
where  we  ostensibly  try  to  refresh  them,  but  where 
we  really  hope  to  break  up  their  service  in  the  army 
of  vagrancy,  and  make  honest  lads  of  them.  These 
"  Lodging-houses"  are  contrived,  after  much  experi- 
ence, so  ingeniously  that  they  inevitably  attract  in 


SOCIAL  HABITS  OF  VAGRANTS.  343 


the  young  vagabonds,  and  drain  the  quarter  where 
they  are  placed  of  this  class.  We  give  the  boys,  in 
point  of  fact,  more  for  their  money  than  they  can  get 
anywhere  else,  and  the  whole  house  is  made  attractive 
and  comfortable  for  them.  But  the  reasons  of  their 
coming  to  a  given  place  seem  unaccountable. 

Thus  there  will  be  a  "  Lodge ??  in  some  out-of-the- 
way  quarter,  with  no  special  attractions,  which  for 
years  will  drag  along  with  a  comparatively  small  num- 
ber of  lodgers,  when  suddenly,  without  any  change 
being  made,  there  will  come  a  rush  of  street-rovers  to 
it,  and  scores  will  have  to  be  sent  away,  and  the  house 
be  crowded  for  months  after.  Perhaps  these  denizens 
of  boxes  and  hay-barges  have  their  own  fashions,  like 
their  elders,  and  a  "  Boys'  Hotel"  becomes  popular, 
and  has  a  run  of  custom  like  the  larger  houses  of 
entertainment.  The  numbers  too,  at  different  sea- 
sons, vary  singularly.  Thus,  in  the  coldest  nights  of 
winter,  when  few  boys  could  venture  to  sleep  out,  and 
one  would  supx30se  there  would  be  a  rush  to  these 
warmed  and  comfortable  u  Lodges,"  the  attendance  in 
some  houses  falls  off.  And  in  all,  the  best  months  are 
the  spring  and  autumn  rather  than  the  winter  or  sum- 
mer. Sometimes  a  single  night  of  the  week  will  show 
a  remarkable  increase  of  lodgers,  though  for  what 
reason  no  one  can  divine. 

The  lodgers  in  the  different  houses  are  singularly 
different.    Those  in  the  parent  Lodging-house — the 


344    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Newsboys' — seem  more" of  tlie  true ; gamin  order: 
sharp,  ready,  light-hearted,  quick  to  understand  and 
quick  to  act,  generous  and  impulsive,  and  with  an 
air  of  being  well  used  "to  steer  their  own  canoe " 
through  whatever  rapids  and  whirlpools.  These  lads 
seem  to  include  more,  also,  of  that  chance  medley 
of  little  wanderers  who  drift  into  the  city  from  the 
country,  and  other  large  towns — boys  floating  on  the 
current,  no  one  knows  whence  or  whither.  They  are, 
as  a  rule,  younger  than  in  the  other  "  Lodges,"  and 
many  of  them  are  induced  to  take  places  on  farms, 
or  with  mechanics  in  the  country. 

One  of  the  mysterious  things  about  this  Boys' 
Hotel  is,  what  becomes  of  the  large  numbers  that 
enter  it  ?  In  the  course  of  the  twelve  months  there 
passes  through  its  hospitable  doors  a  procession  of 
more  than  eight  thousand  different  youthful  rovers 
of  the  streets — boys  without  homes  or  friends;  yet, 
on  any  one  night,  there  is  not  an  average  of  more 
than  two  hundred.  Each  separate  boy  accordingly 
averages  but  nine  days  in  his  stay.  We  can  trace 
during  the  year  the  course  of,  perhaps,  a  thousand 
of  these  young  vagrants,  for  most  of  whom  we  pro- 
vide ourselves.  What  becomes  of  the  other  seven 
thousand  ?  Many,  no  doubt,  find  occupation  in  the 
city  or  country  ;  some  in  the  pleasant  seasons  take 
their  pleasure  and  business  at  the  watering-places  and 
other  large  towns ;  some  return  to  relatives  or  friends; 


THEATRES. 


345 


many  are  arrested  and  imprisoned,  and  the  rest 
of  the  ragged  throng  drift  away,  no  one  knows 
whither. 

The  up-town  Lodging-houses  seem  often  to  gather 
in  a  more  permanent  class  of  lodgers ;  they  become 
frequently  genuine  boarding-houses  for  children.  The 
lads  seem  to  be,  too,  a  more  destitute  and  perhaps 
lower  class  than  "  the  down-town  boys."  Possibly  by 
a  process  of  u  Natural  Selection,"  only  the  sharpest 
and  brightest  lads  get  through  the  intense  "  struggle 
for  existence"  which  belongs  to  the  most  crowded 
portions  of  the  city,  while  the  duller  are  driven  to 
the  up-town  wards.  We  throw  out  the  hypothesis 
for  some  future  investigator. 

The  great  amusement  of  this  multitude  of  street 
vagabonds  is  the  cheap  theatre.  Like  most  boys, 
they  have  a  passion  for  the  dramft.  But  to  them  the 
pictures  of  kings  and  queens,  the  processions  of  court- 
iers and  soldiers  on  the  stage,  and  the  wealthy  gentle- 
men aiding  and  rescuing  distressed  peasant-girls,  are 
the  only  glimpses  they  ever  get  of  the  great  world  of 
history  and  society  above  them,  and  they  are  naturally 
entranced  by  them.  Many  a  lad  will  pass  a  night  in 
a  box,  and  spend  his  last  sixpence,  rather  than  lose 
this  show.  Unfortunately,  these  low  theatres  seem 
the  rendezvous  for  all  disreputable  characters ;  and 
here  the  u  bummers  "  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 


346    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

higher  class  whom  they  so  much  admire,  of  u  flash- 
men^7  thieves,  pickpockets,  and  rogues. 

We  have  taken  the  pains  at  different  times  to  see 
some  of  the  pieces  represented  in  these  places,  and 
have  never  witnessed  anything  improper  or  immoral. 
On  the  contrary,  the  popular  plays  were  always  of  a 
heroic  and  moral  cast.  "  Uncle  Tom,"  when  it  was 
played  in  the  Bowery,  undoubtedly  had  a  good  moral 
and  political  effect,  in  the  years  before  the  war,  on 
these  ragamuffins. 

The  salvation  of  New  York,  as  regards  this  army 
of  young  vagabonds,  is,  without  doubt,  its  climate. 
There  can  be  no  permanent  class  of  lazzaroni  under 
our  winters.  The  cold  compels  work.  The  snow 
drives  "  the  street-rats,"  as  the  police  call  them,  from 
their  holes.  Then  the  homeless  boys  seek  employ- 
ment and  a  shelter.  And  when  they  are  once  brought 
under  the  series  of  moral  and  physical  instrumentali- 
ties contrived  for  their  benefit,  they  cease  soon  to  be 
vagrants,  and  join  the  great  class  of  workers  and 
honest  producers. 

A  CORRECTIVE. 

One  of  the  best  practical  methods  of  correcting 
vagrancy  among  city  boys  would  be  the  adoption,  by 
every  large  town,  of  an  "  ordinance v  similar  to  that 
passed  by  the  Common  Council  of  Boston. 

By  this  Act,  every  child  who  pursues  any  kind  of 


LAW  AGAINST  VAGRANCY. 


347 


street-trade  for  an  occupation — such  as  news-vending, 
peddling,  blackening  of  boots,  and  the  like — is  obliged 
to  procure  a  license,  which  must  be  renewed  every 
three  months.  If  he  is  found  at  any  time  without 
this  license,  he  is  liable  to  summary  arrest  as  a  va- 
grant. To  procure  the  license,  each  child  must  show  a 
certificate  that  he  has  been,  or  is,  attending  some 
school,  whether  public,  or  industrial,  or  parish,  during 
three  hours  each  day. 

The  great  advantage  of  a  law  of  this  nature,  is, 
that  it  can  be  executed.  Any  ordinary  legislation 
against  youthful  vagrants — such  as  arresting  any  child 
found  in  the  streets  during  school-hours,  or  without 
occupation — is  sure  to  become  ineffectual  through  the 
humanity  and  good-nature  of  officials  and  judges. 
Moreover,  every  young  rover  of  the  streets  can  easily 
trump  up  some  occupation,  which  he  professes  to 
follow. 

Thus,  now,  as  is  well  known,  most  of  the  begging 
children  in  New  York  are  apparently  engaged  in  sell- 
ing "  black-headed  pins,"  or  some  other  cheap  trifle. 

They  can  almost  always  pretend  some  occupation — 
if  it  be  only  sweeping  sidewalks — which  enables  them 
to  elude  the  law.  Nor  can  we  reasonably  expect  a 
judge  to  sentence  a  child  for  vagrancy,  when  it  claims 
to  be  supporting  a  destitute  parent  by  earnings  in  a 
street-trade,  though  the  occupation  may  be  a  semi- 
vagrant  one,  and  may  lead  inevitably  to  idleness  and 


348    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

crime.  Nor  does  the  action  of  a  truant-officer  prevent 
the  necessity  of  such  a  law,  because  this  official  only 
acts  on  the  truant  class  of  children,  not  on  those  who 
attend  no  school  whatever.  By  an  ordinance  like 
this  of  Boston,  every  child  can  be  forced  to  at  least 
three  hours'  schooling  each  day  ;  and,  as  any  school  is 
permitted,  no  sectarian  or  bigoted  feeling  is  aroused 
by  this  injunction. 

The  police  would  be  more  ready  to  arrest,  and  the 
judges  to  sentence,  the  violators  of  so  simple  and 
rational  a  law.  The  wanderers  of  the  street  would 
then  be  brought  under  legal  supervision,  which  would 
not  be  too  harsh  or  severe.  Education  may  not,  in 
all  cases,  prevent  crime;  yet  we  well  know  that, 
on  a  broad  scale,  it  has  a  wonderful  effect  in  check- 
ing it. 

The  steady  labor,  punctuality,  and  order  of  a  good 
school,  the  high  tone  in  many  of  our  Free  Schools,  the 
self-respect  cultivated,  the  emulation  aroused,  the  love 
of  industry  thus  planted,  are  just  the  influences  to 
break  up  a  vagabond,  roving,  and  dependent  habit  of 
mind  and  life.  The  School,  with  the  Lodging-house, 
is  the  best  preventive  institution  for  vagrancy. 

The  Massachusetts  system  of  u  Truant-schools v 
— that  is,  Schools  to  which  truant  officers  could  send 
children  habitually  truant — does  not  seem  so  ap- 
plicable to  New  York.  The  number  of  "  truants"  in 
the  city  is  not  very  large;  they  are  in  exceedingly 


ENFORCED  EDUCATION. 


349 


remote  quarters,  and  it  would  be  very  difficult  to 
collect  them  in  any  single  School. 

Our  " Industrial  Schools"  seem* to  take  their  place 
very  efficiently.  The  present  truant-officers  of  the 
city  are  active  and  judicious,  and  return  many  chil- 
dren to  the  Schools. 

COMPULSORY  EDUCATION. 

The  best  general  law  on  this  subject,  both  for 
country  and  city,  would  undoubtedly  be,  a  law  for 
compulsory  education,  allowing  u  Half-time  Schools  " 
to  children  requiring  to  be  employed  a  part  of  the  day. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  time  has  arrived  for 
the  introduction  of  such  laws  throughout  the  country. 
During  the  first  years  of  the  national  existence,  and 
especially  in  New  England  and  the  States  peopled  from 
that  region,  there  was  so  strong  an  impression  among 
the  common  people,  of  the  immense  importance  of  a 
system  of  free  instruction  for  all,  that  no  laws  or 
regulations  were  necessary  to  enforce  it.  Our  ances- 
tors were  only  too  eager  to  secure  mental  training  for 
themselves,  and  opportunities  of  education  for  their 
children.  The  public  property  in  lands  was,  in  many 
States,  early  set  aside  for  purposes  of  school  and  col- 
lege education ;  and  the  poorest  farmers  and  laboring 
people  often  succeeded  in  obtaining  for  their  families 
and  descendants  the  best  intellectual  training  which 
the  country  could  then  bestow. 


350    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

But  all  this,  in  New  England  and  other  portions  of 
the  country,  has  greatly  changed.  Owing  to  foreign 
immigration  and  to  unequal  distribution  of  wealth, 
large  numbers  of  people  have  grown  up  without  the 
rudiments  even  of  common-school  education.  Thus, 
according  to  the  report  of  1871,  of  the  National  Com- 
missioners of  Education,  there  are  in  the  New  England 
States  195,963  persons  over  ten  years  of  age  who  can- 
not write,  and,  therefore,  are  classed  as  "  illiterates." 
In  New  York  State  the  number  reaches  the  astound- 
ing height  of  241,152,  of  whom  10,639  are  of  the  colored 
race.  In  Pennsylvania  the  number  is  222,356;  in 
Ohio,  173,172,  and  throughout  the  Union  the  popula- 
tion of  the  illiterates  sums  up  the  fearful  amount  of 
5,660,074.  In  New  York  State  the  number  of  illiterate 
minors  between  ten  and  twenty-one  years  amounts  to 
42,405.  In  this  city  there  are  62,238  persons  over  ten 
who  cannot  write,  of  whom  53,791  are  of  foreign  birth. 
Of  minors  between  ten  and  twenty-one,  there  are  here 
8,017  illiterates. 

Now,  it  must  be  manifest  to  the  dullest  mind,  that 
a  republic  like  ours,  resting  on  universal  suffrage,  is 
in  the  utmost  danger  from  such  a  mass  of  ignorance 
at  its  foundation.  That  nearly  six  persons  (5.7)  in 
every  one  hundred  in  the  Northern  States  should  be 
uneducated,  and  thirty  out  of  the  hundred  in  the 
Southern,  is  certainly  an  alarming  fact.  From  this 
dense  ignorant  multitude  of  human  beings  proceed 


"illiterates." 


351 


most  of  the  crimes  of  the  community;  these  are  the 
tools  of  unprincipled  politicians;  these  form  "the 
dangerous  classes ??  of  the  city.  So  strongly  has  this 
danger  been  felt,  especially  from  the  ignorant  masses 
of  the  Southern  States,  both  black  and  white,  that 
Congress  has  organized  a  National  Bureau  of  Educa- 
tion, and,  for  the  first  time  in  our  history,  is  taking 
upon  itself,  to  a  limited  degree,  the  care  of  education 
in  the  States.  The  law  making  appropriations  of 
public  lands  for  purposes  of  education,  in  proportion 
to  the  illiteracy  of  each  State,  will  undoubtedly  at 
some  period  be  passed,  and  then  encouragement  will 
be  given  by  the  Federal  Government  to  universal 
popular  education.  As  long  as  five  millions  of  our 
people  cannot  write,  there  is  no  wisdom  in  arguing 
against  interference  of  the  General  Government  in  so 
vital  a  matter. 

During  the  past  two  years  all  intelligent  Americans 
have  been  struck  by  the  excellent  discipline  and  im- 
mense well-directed  energy  shown  by  the  Prussian 
nation — plainly  the  results  of  the  universal  and  en- 
forced education  of  the  people.  The  leading  Power 
of  Europe  evidently  bases  its  strength  on  the  law  of 
Compulsory  Education.  Yery  earnest  attention  has 
been  given  in  this  country  to  the  subject.  Several 
States  are  approaching  the  adoption  of  such  a  law. 
California  is  reported .  to  favor  it,  as  well  as  Illinois. 
Massachusetts,  Ehode  Island,  and  Connecticut  have 


>  352    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

begun  compulsory  education  by  their  legislation  on 
factory  children,  compelling  parents  to  educate  their 
children  a  certain  number  of  hours  each  day.  Even 
Great  Britain  is  drawing  near  it  by  her  late  School 
acts,  and  must  eventually  pass  such  laws.  In  our 
own  State,  where,  of  all  the  free  States,  the  greatest 
illiteracy  exists,  there  has  been  much  backwardness 
in  this  matter.  But,  under  the  new  movements  for 
reform,  our  citizens  must  see  where  the  root  of  all 
their  troubles  lies.  The  demagogues  of  this  city 
would  never  have  won  their  amazing  power  but  for 
those  sixty  thousand  persons  who  never  read  or 
write.  It  is  this  class  and  their  associates  who  made 
these  politicians  what  they  were. 

We  need,  in  the  interests  of  public  order,  of  lib- 
erty, of  property,  for  the  sake  of  our  own  safety  and 
the  endurance  of  free  institutions  here,  a  strict  and 
careful  law,  which  shall  compel  every  minor  to  learn 
to  read  and  write,  under  severe  penalties  in  case  of 
disobedience. 


OHAPTEE  XXIX. 

FACTORY  CHILDREN. 

In  our  educational  movements,  we  early  opened 
Night-schools  for  the  poor  children.  During  the  win- 
ter of  1870-71,  we  had  some  eleven  in  operation, 
reaching  a  most  interesting  class  of  children — those 
working  hard  from  eight  to  ten  hours  a  day,  and  then 
coming  with  passionate  eagerness  for  schooling  in  the 
evening. 

The  experience  gained  in  these  schools  still  further 
developed  the  fact,  already  known  to  us,  of  the  great 
numbers  of  children  of  tender  years  in  New  York 
employed  in  factories,  shops,  trades,  and  other  regular 
occupations.  A  child  put  at  hard  work  in  this  way, 
is,  as  is  well  known,  stunted  in  growth  or  enfeebled  in 
health.  He  fails  also  to  get  what  is  considered  as 
indispensable  in  this  country  for  the  safety  of  the 
State,  a  common-school  education.  He  grows  up 
weak  in  body  and  ignorant  or  untrained  in  mind. 
The  parent  or  relative  wants  his  wages,  and  insists  on 
his  laboring  in  a  factory  when  he  ought  to  be  in  an 
infant-school.  The  employer  is  in  the  habit  of  getting 
labor  where  he  can  find  it,  and  does  not  much  consider 
whether  he  is  allowing  his  little  employes  the  time  and 


354     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

leisure  sufficient  for  preparing  themselves  for  life.  He 
excuses  himself,  too,  by  the  plea  that  the  child  would 
be  half-starved  or  thrown  on  the  Poor-house  but  for 
this  employment. 

The  universal  experience  is,  that  neither  the  be- 
nevolence of  the  manufacturer  nor  the  conscience  of 
the  parent  will  prevent  the  steady  employment  of 
children  of  tender  years  in  factory  work,  provided 
sufficient  wages  be  offered.  Probably,  if  the  em- 
ployer were  approached  by  a  reasonable  person,  and 
it  was  represented  what  a  wrong  he  was  doing  to  so 
young  a  laborer,  or  the  parent  were  warned  of  his 
responsibility  to  educate  a  child  he  had  brought  into 
the  world,  they  would  both  agree  to  the  reasonableness 
of  the  position,  and  attempt  to  reform  their  ways. 
But  the  necessities  of  capital  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
wants  of  poverty  on  the  other,  soon  put  the  children 
again  at  the  loom,  the  machine,  and  the  bench,  and 
the  result  is — masses  of  little  ones,  bent  and  wan  with 
early  trial,  and  growing  up  mere  machines  of  labor. 
England  has  found  the  evil  terrible,  and,  during  the 
past  ten  or  fifteen  years,  has  been  legislating  inces- 
santly against  it ;  protecting  helpless  infancy  from  the 
tyranny  of  capital  and  the  greed  of  poverty,  and 
securing  a  fair  growth  of  body  and  mind  for  the  chil- 
dren of  the  laboring  poor. 

There  is  something  extremely  touching  in  these 
Night-schools,  in  the  eagerness  of  the  needy  boys  and 


CHILDREN'S  WORK. 


355 


girls  who  have  been  toiling  all  d&y,  to  pick  up  a  mor- 
sel of  knowledge  or  gain  a  practical  mental  accom- 
plishment. Their  occupations  are  legion.  The  follow- 
ing are  extracts  from  a  recent  report  of  one  of  our 
visitors  on  this  subject.  At  the  Crosby-street  School, 
he  says : — 

"  There  were  some  hundred  children  ;  their  occupations  were 
as  follows :  They  put  up  insect-powder  drive  wagons,  tend  oys- 
ter-saloons ;  are  tinsmiths,  engravers,  office-boys,  in  type-found- 
eries,  at  screws,  in  blacksmith-shops  ;  make  cigars,  polish,  work 
at  packing  tobacco,  in  barber-shops,  at  paper-stands ;  are  cash- 
boys,  light  porters,  make  artificial  flowers,  work  at  hair;  are 
errand-boys,  make  ink,  are  in  Singer's  sewing-machine  factory, 
and  printing-offices;  some  post  bills,  some  are  paint-scrapers, 
some  peddlers ;  they  pack  snuff,  attend  poultry-stands  at  market, 
in  shoe-stores  and  hat-stores,  tend  stands,  and  help  painters  and 
carpenters. 

"At  the  Fifth- ward  School  (No.  141  Hudson  Street),  were 
fifty  boys  and  girls.  One  of  them,  speaking  of  her  occupation, 
said  :  '  I  work  at  feathers,  cutting  the  feathers  from  cock's  tails. 
It  is  a  very  busy  time  now.  They  took  in  forty  new  hands  to- 
day. I  get  three  dollars  and  fifty  cents  a  week  ;  next  week  I'll 
get  more.  I  go  to  work  at  eight  o'clock  and  leave  off  at  six. 
The  feathers  are  cut  from  the  stem,  then  steamed,  and  curled, 
and  packed.  They  are  sent  then  to  Paris,  but  more  South  and 
West.'  One  boy  said  he  worked  at  twisting  twine;  another 
drove  a  '  hoisting-horse,'  another  blacked  boots,  etc. 

"At  the  Eleventh-ward  School,  foot  of  East  Eleventh  Street, 
there  was  an  interesting  class  of  boys  and  girls  under  thirteen 
years  of  age.  One  boy  said  he  was  employed  during  the  day  in 
making  chains  of  beads,  and  says  that  a  number  of  the  boys 
and  girls  present  are  in  the  same  business.  Another  said  he 
worked  at  coloring  maps.  Another  blows  an  organ  for  a  music- 
teacher.  » 

"  At  the  Lord  School,  No.  207  Greenwich  Street,  the  occupa- 
tions of  the  girls  were  working  in  hair,  stripping  tobacco,  crochet, 


356     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

folding  paper  collars,  *house-work,  tending  baby,  putting  up 
papers  in  drug-store,  etc.,  etc." 

In  making  but  a  brief  survey  of  the  employment  of 
children  outside  of  our  schools,  we  discover  that  there 
are  from  one  thousand  five  hundred  to  two  thousand 
children,  under  fifteen  years  of  age,  employed  in  a 
single  branch — the  manufacture  of  paper  collars — 
while  of  those  between  fifteen  and  twenty  years,  the 
number  reaches  some  eight  thousand.  In  tobacco- 
factories  in  New  York,  Brooklyn,  and  the  neighbor- 
hood, our  agents  found  children  only  four  year's  of  age — 
sometimes  half  a  dozen  in  a  single  room.  Others 
were  eight  years  of  age,  and  ranged  from  that  age  up 
to  fifteen  years.  Girls  and  boys  of  twelve  to  fourteen 
years  earn  from  four  dollars  to  five  dollars  a  week. 
One  little  girl  they  saw,  tending  a  machine,  so  small 
that  she  had  to  stand  upon  a  box  eighteen  inches  high 
to  enable  her  to  reach  her  work.  In  one  room  they 
found  fifty  children ;  some  little  girls,  only  eight  years 
of  age,  earning  three  dollars  per  week.  In  another, 
there  were  children  of  eight  and  old  women  of  sixty, 
working  together.  In  the  "  unbinding  cellar "  they 
found  fifteen  boys  under  fifteen  years.  Twine-facto- 
ries, ink-factories,  feather,  pocket-book,  and  artificial- 
flower  manufacture,  and  hundreds  of  other  occupa- 
tions, reveal  the  same  state  of  things. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  when  Mr.  Mundella,  the 
English  member  of  Parliament,  who  has  accomplished 


MASSACHUSETTS  LAW. 


357 


so  much  in  educational  and  other  reforms  in  Great 
Britain,  was  here,  he  stated  in  a  public  address  that 
the  evils  of  children's  overwork  seemed  as  great  here 
as  in  England.  Our  investigations  confirm  this  opin- 
ion. The  evil  is  already  vast  in  New  York,  and  must 
be  checked.  It  can  only  be  restrained  by  legislation. 
What  have  other  States  done  in  the  matter  ? 

MASSACHUSETTS  LEGISLATION. 

The  great  manufacturing  State  of  New  England 
has  long  felt  the  evil  from  children's  overwork,  but 
has  only  in  recent  years  attempted  to  check  it  by 
strict  legislation.  In  1866,  the  Legislature  of  Massa- 
chusetts passed  an  act  restraining  u  the  employment 
of  children  of  tender  years  in  manufacturing  estab- 
lishments," which  was  subsequently  repealed  and  re- 
placed by  a  more  complete  and  stringent  law  in  1867 
(chapter  285).  By  this  act,  no  child  under  ten  years 
of  age  is  permitted  to  be  employed  in  any  manufac- 
turing or  mechanical  establishment  in  the  State.  And 
no  child  between  ten  and  fifteen  years  can  be  so  em- 
ployed, unless  he  has  attended  some  Day-school  for  at 
least  three  months  of  the  year  preceding,  or  a  u  half- 
time  school"  during  the  six  months.  Nor  shall  the 
employment  continue,  if  this  amount  of  education  is 
not  secured.  The  school  also  must  be  approved  by 
the  School  Committee  of  the  town  where  the  child 
resides. 


358    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

It  is  further  provided,  that  no  child  under  fifteen 
shall  be  so  employed  more  than  sixty  hours  per  week. 
The  penalty  for  the  violation  of  the  act  is  fifty  dollars, 
both  to  employer  and  parent.  The  execution  of  the 
law  is  made  the  duty  of  the  State  Constable. 

The  report  of  the  Deputy  State  Comptroller,  Gen. 
Oliver,  shows  certain  defects  in  the  phraseology  of 
the  act,  and  various  difficulties  in  its  execution,  but 
no  more  than  might  naturally  be  expected  in  such 
legislation.  Thus,  there  is  not  sufficient  power  con- 
ferred on  the  executive  officer  to  enter  manufacturing 
establishments,  or  to  secure  satisfactory  evidence 
of  the  law  having  been  violated;  and  no  sufficient 
certificates  or  forms  of  registration  of  the  age  and 
school  attendance  of  factory  children  are  provided 
for.  The  act,  too,  it  is  claimed,  is  not  sufficiently 
yielding,  and  therefore  may  bear  severely  in  certain 
cases  on  the  poor. 

The  reports,  however,  from  this  officer,  and  from 
the  Boston  "  Bureau  of  Labor,"  show  how  much  is 
already  being  accomplished  in  Massachusetts  to  bring 
public  attention  to  bear  on  the  subject.  Laws  often 
act  as  favorably  by  indirect  means  as  by  direct.  They 
arouse  conscience  and  awaken  consideration,  even  if 
they  cannot  be  fully  executed.  As  a  class,  New  Eng- 
land manufacturers  are  exceedingly  intelligent  and 
public-spirited,  and  when  their  attention  was  called  to 
this  growing  evil  by  the  law,  they  at  once  set  about 


HALF-TIME  SCHOOLS. 


359 


efforts  to  remedy  it.  Many  of  them  have  established 
"  half-time  schools,7'  which  they  require  their  young 
employes  to  attend ;  and  they  find  their  own  interests 
advanced  by  this,  as  they  get  a  better  class  of  labor- 
/  ers.  Others  arrange  "  double  gangs"  of  young  work- 
ers, so  that  one-half  may  take  the  place  of  the  other 
in  the  mill,  while  the  former  are  in  school.  Others 
have  founded  u  Mght-schools."  There  is  no  question 
that  the  law,  with  all  its  defects,  has  already  served 
to  lessen  the  evil. 

RHODE  ISLAND  LEGISLATION". 

The  Ehode  Island  act  (chapter  139)  does  not  differ 
materially  from  that  of  Massachusetts,  except  that 
twelve  years  is  made  the  minimum  age  at  which  a 
child  can  be  employed  in  factories;  and  children,  even 
during  the  nine  months  of  factory  work  every  year, 
are  not  allowed  to  be  employed  more  than  eleven 
hours  per  day.  The  penalty  is  made  but  twenty  dol- 
lars, which  can  be  recovered  before  any  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  and  one-half  is  to  go  to  the  complainant  and 
the  other  to  the  District  or  Public  School. 

CONNECTICUT  LEGISLATION". 

In  matters  of  educational  reform  Connecticut  is 
always  the  leading  State  of  the  Union.  On  this  sub- 
ject of  children's  overwork,  and  consequent  want  of 
education,  she  has  legislated  since  1842. 


360    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

The  original  act,  however,  was  strengthened  and, 
in  part,  repealed  by  another  law  passed  in  July,  1869 
(chapter  115),  which  is  the  most  stringent  act  on  this 
subject  in  the  American  code.  In  all  the  other  legis- 
lation the  law  is  made  to  apply  solely  to  manufactur- 
ers and  mechanics ;  in  this  it  includes  all  employment 
of  children,  the  State  rightly  concluding  that  it  is  as 
much  against  the  public  weal  to  have  a  child  grow 
up  ignorant  and  overworked  with  a  farmer  as  with  a 
manufacturer.  The  Connecticut  act,  too,  leaves  out 
the  word  u  knowingly/7  with  regard  to  the  employer's 
action  in  working  the  child  at  too  tender  years,  or 
beyond  the  legal  time.  It  throws  on  the  employer  the 
responsibility  of  ascertaining  whether  the  children 
employed  have  attended  school  the  required  time,  or 
whether  they  are  too  young  for  his  labor.  Nor  is  it 
enough  that  the  child  should  have  been  a  member  of 
a  school  for  three  months  ;  his  name  must  appear 
on  the  register  for  sixty  days  of  actual  attendance. 

The  age  under  which  three  months'  school-time 
is  required  is  fourteen.  The  penalty  for  each  of- 
fense is  made  one  hundred  dollars  to  the  Treasurer 
of  the  State.  Four  different  classes  of  officers  are 
instructed  and  authorized  to  co-operate  with  the 
State  in  securing  every  child  under  fourteen  three 
months  of  education,  and  in  protecting  him  from 
overwork,  namely,  School- Visitors,  the  Board  of  Edu- 
cation, State  Attorneys,  and  Grand  Jurors.  The  State 


CONNECTICUT  LAW. 


3G1 


Board  of  Education  is  "  authorized  to  take  such 
action  as  may  be  deemed  necessary  to  secure  the  en- 
forcement of  this  act,  and  may  appoint  an  agent  for 
that  purpose." 

The  defects  of  the  law  seem  to  be  that  it  provides 
for  no  minimum  of  age  in  which  a  child  may  be  em- 
ployed in  a  factory,  and  does  not  limit  the  number 
of  hours  of  labor  per  week  for  children  in  manufac- 
turing establishments.  Neither  of  these  limitations 
is  necessary  in  regard  to  farm-labor. 

The  agent  for  executing  the  law  in  Connecticut, 
Mr.  H,  M.  Cleaveland,  seems  to  have  acted  with  great 
wisdom,  and  to  have  secured  the  hearty  co-operation 
of  the  manufacturers.  "  Three-fourths  of  the  manu- 
facturers of  the  State,"  he  says,  "  of  almost  every- 
thing, from  a  needle  up  to  a  locomotive,  were  visited, 
and  pledged  themselves  to  a  written  agreement,"  that 
they  would  employ  no  children  under  fourteen  years 
of  age,  except  those  with  certificates  from  the  local 
school-officers  of  actual  school  attendance  for  at  least 
three  months. 

This  fact  alone  reflects  the  greatest  credit  on  this 
intelligent  class.  And  we  are  not  surprised  that  they 
are  quoted  as  saying,  "  We  do  not  dare  to  permit  the 
children  within  and  around  our  mills  to  grow  up  with- 
out some  education.  Better  for  us  to  pay  the  school 
expenses  ourselves  than  have  the  children  in  ignor- 
ance." 

16 


362   THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


Many  of  the  Connecticut  manufacturers  have 
already,  at  their  own  expense,  provided  means  of 
education  for  the  children  they  are  employing  •  and 
large  numbers  have  agreed  to  a  division  of  the  chil- 
dren in  their  employ  into  alternate  gangs — of  whom 
one  is  in  school  while  the  other  is  in  the  factory. 

The  following  act  was  drawn  up  by  Mr.  C.  E. 
Whitehead,  counsel  and  trustee  of  the  Children's  Aid 
Society,  and  presented  to  the  New  York  Legislature 
of  1872.    It  has  not  yet  passed : — 

AN"  ACT  FOR  THE  PROTECTION  OE  FACTORY  CHILDREN. 

Section  1. — No  child  under  the  age  of  ten  years  shall  be 
employed  for  hire  in  any  manufactory  or  mechanical  shop,  or  at 
any  manufacturing  work  within  this  State ;  and  no  child  under 
the  age  of  twelve  years  shall  be  so  employed  unless  such  child 
can  intelligibly  read,  under  a  penalty  of  five  dollars  for  every 
day  during  any  part  of  which  any  such  child  shall  be  so  em- 
ployed, to  be  paid  by  the  employer.  Any  parent,  guardian,  or 
other  person  authorizing  such  employment,  or  making  a  false 
return  of  the  age  of  a  child,  with  a  view  to  such  employment, 
shall  be  liable  to  a  penalty  of  twenty  dollars. 

Sec.  2. — No  child  under  the  age  of  sixteen  years  shall  be 
employed  in  any  manufactory,  or  in  any  mechanical  or  manu- 
facturing shop,  or  at  any  manufacturing  work  within  the  State, 
for  more  than  sixty  hours  in  one  week,  or  after  four  o'clock  on 
Saturday  afternoon,  or  on  New-year's-day,  or  on  Christmas-day, 
or  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  or  on  the  Twenty-second  of  February, 
or  on  Thanksgiving-day,  under  a  penalty  of  ten  dollars  for  each 
offense. 

Sec.  3. — No  child  between  the  ages  of  ten  and  sixteen  years 
shall  be  employed  in  any  manufactory  or  workshop,  or  at  any 
manufacturing  work  within  this  State,  during  more  than  nine 
months  in  any  one  year,  unless  during  such  year  he  shall  have 


NEW  YORK  LAW. 


363 


attended  school  as  in  this  section  hereinafter  provided,  nor  shall 
such  child  be  employed  at  all  unless  such  child  shall  have 
attended  a  public  day-school  during  three  full  months  of  the 
twelve  months  next  preceding  such  employment,  and  shall  de- 
liver to  its  employer  a  written  certificate  of  such  attendance, 
signed  by  the  teacher ;  the  certificate  to  .be  kept  by  the  em- 
ployer as  hereinafter  provided,  under  a  penalty  of  fifty  dollars. 
Provided  that  regular  tuition  of  three  hours  per  day  in  a  private 
day-school  or  public  night-school,  during  a  term  of  six  months, 
shall  be  deemed  equivalent  to  three  months'  attendance  at  a 
public  day-school,  kept  in  accordance  with  the  customary  hours 
of  tuition.  And  provided  that  the  child  shall  have  lived  within 
the  State  during  the  preceding  six  months.  And  provided  that 
where  there  are  more  than  one  child  between  the  ages  of  twelve 
and  sixteen  years  in  one  family,  and  the  commissioners  or  over- 
seers of  the  poor  shall  certify  in  writing  that  the  labor  of  such 
children  is  essential  to  the  maintenance  of  the  family,  such 
schooling  may  be  substituted  during  the  first  year  of  their  em- 
ployment by  having  the  children  attend  the  public  schools  dur- 
ing alternate  months  of  such  current  year,  until  the  full  three 
months'  schooling  for  each  child  shall  have  been  had,  or  by 
having  the  children  attend  continuously  a  private  day-school  or 
public  night-school  three  hours  a  day  until  the  full  six  months' 
schooling  for  each  child  shall  have  been  had. 

Sec.  4. — Everymanufacturer,  owner  of  mills,  agent,  overseer, 
contractor,  or  other  person,  who  shall  employ  operatives  under 
sixteen  years  of  age,  or  on  whose  premises  such  operatives  shall 
be  employed,  shall  cause  to  be  kept  on  the  premises  a  register, 
which  shall  contain,  in  consecutive  columns  :  (1st),  the  date  when 
each  operative  commenced  his  or  her  engagement ;  (2d),  the 
name  and  surname  of  the  operative ;  (3d),  his  or  her  place  of 
nativity ;  (4th),  his  or  her  residence  by  street  and  number  ;  (oth)^ 
his  or  her  age  ;  (6th),  the  name  of  his  or  her  father,  if  living  ;  if 
not,  that  of  the  mother,  if  living ;  (7th),  the  number  of  his  or 
her  school  certificate,  or  the  reason  of  its  absence  ;  and  (8th),  the 
date  of  his  or  her  leaving  the  factory.  Such  register  shall  be 
kept  open  to  the  inspection  of  all  public  authorities,  and  extracts 
therefrom  shall  be  furnished  on  the  requisition  of  the  Inspector, 
the  School  Commissioners,  or  other  public  authority.  Any 


364     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


violation  of  this  section  shall  subject  the  offender  to  a  penalty  of 
one  hundred  dollars. 

Sec.  5. — Every  such  employer  mentioned  in  the  last  section 
shall  keep  a  register,  in  which  shall  be  entered  the  certificates 
of  schooling  produced  by  children  in  his  employ  ;  such  certificate 
shall  be  signed  by  the  teacher,  and  shall  be  dated,  and  shall 
certify  the  dates  between  which  such  scholar  has  attended 
school,  and  shall  mention  any  absences  made  therefrom  during 
such  term,  and  such  certificates  shall  be  numbered  in  consecu- 
tive order,  and  such  register  shall  also  be  kept  open  to  inspec- 
tion of  all  public  authorities,  as  provided  in  the  last  section  ;  and 
all  violations  of  this  section  shall  subject  the  offender  to  a 
penalty  of  one  hundred  dollars. 

Sec.  6. — Any  teacher  or  other  person  giving  a  false  certi- 
ficate, for  the  purpose  of  being  used  under  the  provisions  of  this 
act,  shall  be  liable  to  a  penalty  of  one  hundred  dollars,  and  be 
deemed  guilty  of  misdemeanor. 

Sec.  7. — The  parent  or  guardian  of  every  child  released  from 
work  under  the  provisions  of  this  act  shall  cause  the  said  child 
to  attend  school  when  so  released,  for  three  months,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  provisions  of  section  three  of  this  act,  under  a 
penalty  of  five  dollars  for  each  week  of  non-attendance. 

Sec.  8. — All  public  officers  and  persons  charged  with  the 
enforcement  of  this  law  can,  at  all  working-hours,  enter  upon 
any  factory  premises,  and  any  person  refusing  them  admittance 
or  hindering  them  shall  be  liable  to  a  penalty  of  one  hundred 
dollars. 

Sec.  9. — Every  room  in  any  factory  in  which  operatives  are 
employed  shall  be  thoroughly  painted  or  whitewashed  or  cleaned 
at  least  once  a  year,  and  shall  be  kept  as  well  ventilated,  lighted, 
and  cleaned  as  the  character  of  the  business  will  permit,  under 
a  penalty  of  ten  dollars  for  each  week  of  neglect. 

Sec.  10. — All  trap-doors  or  elevators,  and  all  shafting,  belt- 
ing, wheels,  and  machinery  running  by  steam,  water,  or  other 
motive  power,  in  rooms  or  places  in  a  factory  in  which  operatives 
are  employed,  or  through  which  they  have  to  pass,  shall  be  pro- 
tected by  iron  screens,  or  by  suitable  partitions  during  all  the 
time  when  such  doors  are  open,  and  while  such  machinery  is  in 
motion,  under  a  penalty  of  fifty  dollars,  to  be  paid  by  the  owner 


NEW  YORK  LAW. 


365 


of  such,  machinery,  or  the  employer  of  such  operatives,  for  each 
day  during  which  the  same  shall  be  so  unprotected. 

Sec.  11. — This  act  shall  be  printed  and  kept  hung  in  a  con- 
spicuous place  in  every  factory,  by  the  owner,  agent,  overseer, 
or  person  occupying  such  factory,  under  a  penalty  of  ten  dollars 
for  each  day's  neglect. 

Sec.  12. — All  suits  for  penalties  under  this  act  shall  be 
brought  within  ninety  days  after  commission  of  the  offense,  and 
may  be  brought  by  the  Inspector  of  Factory  Children,  by  the 
District-Attorney  of  the  county,  by  the  School  Commissioners, 
by  the  Trustees  of  Public  Schools,  or  the  Commissioners  of 
Charities,  before  any  Justice  of  the  Peace,  or  in  any  Justice's 
Court,  or  any  Court  of  Record  ;  and  one-half  of  all  penalties  re- 
covered shall  be  paid  to  the  school  fund  of  the  county,  and  one- 
half  to  the  informer. 

Sec.  13. — The  Governor  of  this  State  shall  hereafter  appoint 
a  State  officer,  to  be  known  as  the  Inspector  of  Factory  Children, 
to  hold  office  for  four  years,  unless  sooner  removed  for  neglect 
of  duty,  who  shall  receive  a  salary  of  two  thousand  dollars  a 
year  and  traveling  expenses,  not  exceeding  one  thousand  dollars, 
whose  duty  it  shall  be  to  examine  the  different  factories  in  this 
State,  and  to  aid  in  the  enforcement  of  this  law,  and  to  report 
annually  to  the  Legislature  the  number,  the  ages,  character  of 
occupation,  and  educational  privileges  of  children  engaged  in 
manufacturing  labor  in  the  different  counties  of  the  State,  with 
suggestions  as  to  the  improvement  of  their  condition. 


OHAPTEE  XXX. 
THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  CHARITIES. 

The  power  of  every  charity  and  effort  at  moral 
reform  is  in  the  spirit  of  the  man  directing  or  found- 
ing it.  If  he  enter  it  mechanically,  as  he  would  take 
a  trade  or  profession,  simply  because  it  falls  in  his 
way,  or  because  of  its  salary  or  position,  he  cannot 
possibly  succeed  in  it.  There  are  some  things  which 
the  laws  of  trade  do  not  touch.  There  are  services  of 
love  which  seek  no  pecuniary  reward,  and  whose  vir- 
tue, when  first  entered  upon,  is  that  the  soul  is  poured 
out  in  them  without  reference  to  money-return. 

In  the  initiation  of  all  great  and  good  causes  there 
is  a  time  of  pure  enthusiasm,  when  life  and  thought 
and  labor  are  given  freely,  and  hardly  a  care  enters 
the  mind  as  to  the  prizes  of  honor  or  wealth  which 
are  struggled  for  so  keenly  in  the  world.  Xo  reformer 
or  friend  of  humanity,  worthy  of  the  name,  has  not 
some  time  in  his  life  felt  this  high  enthusiasm.  If  it 
has  been  his  duty  to  struggle  with  such  an  evil  as 
Slavery,  the  wrongs  of  the  slave  have  been  burned 
into  his  soul  until  he  has  felt  them  more  even  than  if 
they  were  his  own,  and  no  reward  of  riches  or  fame 


THE  TRUE  REFORMER. 


367 


that  life  could  offer  him  would  be  half  so  sweet  as 
the  consciousness  that  he  had  broken  these  fetters 
of  injustice. 

If  he  has  been  inspired  by  Christ  with  a  love  of 
humanity,  there  have  been  times  when  the  evils  that 
afflict  it  clouded  his  daily  happiness ;  when  the 
thought  of  the  tears  shed  that  no  one  could  wipe 
away  5  of  the  nameless  wrongs  suffered ;  of  the  igno- 
rance which  imbruted  the  young,  and  the  sins  that 
stained  the  conscience ;  of  _  the  loneliness,  privation, 
and  pain  of  vast  masses  of  human  beings ;  of  the 
necessary  degradation  of  great  multitudes ; — when  the 
picture  of  all  these,  and  other  wounds  and  woes  of 
mankind,  rose  like  a  dark  cloud  between  him  and  the 
light,  and  even  the  face  of  God  was  obscured. 

At  such  times  it  has  seemed  sweeter  to  bring 

1 

smiles  back  to  sad  faces,  and  to  raise  up  the  neglected 
and  forgotten,  than  to  win  the  highest  j>rize  of  earth ; 
and  the  thought  of  Him  who  hath  ennobled  man, 
and  whose  life  was  especially  given  for  the  poor  and 
outcast,  made  all  labors  and  sacrifices  seem  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  joy  of  following  in  His 
footsteps. 

At  such  rare  moments  the  ordinary  prizes  of  life 
are  forgotten  or  not  valued.  The  man  is  inspired 
with  "  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity.'7  He  maps  out  a 
city  with  his  plans  and  aspirations  for  the  removal  of 
the  various  evils  which  he  sees.    His  life  flows  out  for 


368    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

those  who  can  never  reward  him,  and  who  hardly 
know  of  his  labors. 

But,  in  process  of  time,  the  first  fervor  of  this 
ardent  enthusiam  must  cool  away.  The  worker  him- 
self is  forced  to  think  of  his  own  interests  and  those 
of  his  family.  His  plan,  whatever  it  may  be, — for 
removing  the  evils  which  have  pained  him,  demands 
practical  means, — men,  money,  and  "machinery." 
Hence  arises  the  great  subject  of  u  Organization.^ 
The  strong  under-running  current  which  carries  his 
enterprise  along  is  still  the  old  faith  or  enthusiasm ; 
but  the  question  of  means  demands  new  thought  and 
the  exercise  of  different  faculties. 

There  are  many  radical  difficulties,  in  organizing 
practical  charities,  which  are  exceedingly  hard  to 
overcome. 

Charities,  to  be  permanent  and  efficient,  must  be 
organized  with  as  much  exactness  and  order  as  busi- 
ness associations,  and  carry  with  them  something 
of  the  same  energy  and  motives  of  action.  But  the 
tendency,  as  is  well  known  from  European  experience, 
of  all  old  charities,  is  to  sluggishness,  want  of  enter- 
prise, and  careless  business  arrangement,  as  well  as 
to  mechanical  routine  in  the  treatment  of  their  sub- 
jects. The  reason  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  some- 
what exceptional  abnormal  position — economically 
considered — of  the  worker  in  fields  of  benevolence. 
All  laborers  in  the  intellectual  and  moral  field  are 


"  INTERESTED  MOTIVES." 


369 


exposed  to  the  dangers  of  routine.  But  in  education, 
for  instance,  and  the  offices  of  the  Church,  there  is  a 
constant  and  healthy  competition  going  on,  and  cer- 
tain prizes  are  held  out  to  the  successful  worker, 
which  tend  continually  to  arouse  his  faculties,  and 
lead  him  to  invent  new  methods  of  attaining  his  ends. 
The  relative  want  of  this  among  the  Catholic  clergy 
may  be  the  cause  of  their  lack  of  intellectual  activity, 
as  compared  with  the  Protestant. 

In  the  management  of  charities  there  is  a  prevail- 
ing impression  that  what  may  be  called  u  interested 
motives  "  should  be  entirely  excluded.  The  worker, 
having  entered  the  work  under  the  enthusiasm  of 
humanity,  should  continue  buoyed  up  by  that  enthu- 
siasm. His  salary  may  be  seldom  changed.  It  will  be 
ordinarily  beneath  that  which  is  earned  by  corre- 
sponding ability  outside.  No  rewards  of  rank  or  fame 
are  held  out  to  him.  He  is  expected  to  find  his  pay  in 
his  labor. 

£Tow«  there  are  certain  individuals  so  filled  with 
compassion  for  human  sufferings,  or  so  inspired  by 
Religion,  or  who  so  much  value  the  offering  of  respect 
returned  by  mankind  for  their  sacrifices,  that  they  do 
not  need  the  impulse  of  ordinary  motives  to  make 
their  work  as  energetic  and  inventive  and  faithful  as 
any  labor  under  the  motives  of  competition  and  gain. 

But  the  great  majority  of  the  instruments  and 
agents  of  a  charity  are  not  of  thi^  kind.    They  must 


370    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

have  something  of  the  common  inducements  of  man- 
kind held  out  before  them.  If  these  be  withdrawn, 
they  become  gradually  sluggish,  uninventive,  inexact, 
and  lacking  in  the  necessary  enterprise  and  ardor. 

The  agents  of  the  old  endowed  charities  of  England 
are  said  often  to  become  as  lazy  and  mechanical  as 
monks  in  monasteries. 

To  remedy  such  evils,  the  trustees  of  all  charities 
should  hold  out  a  regular  scale  of  salaries,  which  dif- 
ferent agents  could  attain  to  if  they  were  successful. 
The  principle,  too,  which  should  govern  the  amounts 
paid  to  each  agent,  should  be  well  considered.  Of 
course,  the  governing  law  for  all  salaries  are  the 
demand  and  supply  for  such  services.  But  an  agent 
for  a  charity,  even  as  a  missionary,  sometimes  puts 
himself  voluntarily  outside  of  such  a  law.  He  throws 
himself  into  a  great  moral  and  religious  cause,  and 
consumes  his  best  powers  in  it,  and  unfits  himself  (it 
may  be)  for  other  employments.  His  own  field  may 
be  too  narrow  to  occasion  much  demand  for  his 
peculiar  experience  and  talent  from  other  sources. 
There  comes  then  a  certain  moral  obligation  on  the 
managers  of  the  charity,  not  to  take  him  at  the  cheap- 
est rate  for  which  they  can  secure  his  services,  but  to 
proportion  his  payment  somewhat  to  what  he  would 
have  been  worth  in  other  fields,  and  thus  to  hold  out 
to  him  some  of  the  inducements  of  ordinary  life.  The 
>  salary  should  be  large  enough  to  allow  the  agent  and 


QUESTION  OF  SALARIES.  371 


his  family  to  live  somewhat  as  those  of  corresponding 
ability  and  education  do,  and  still  to  save  something 
for  old  age  or  a  time  of  need.  Some  benevolent  asso- 
ciations have  obtained  this  by  a  very  wise  arrange- 
ment— that  of  an  "  annuity  insurance"  of  the  life  of 
their  agents,  which  secured  them  a  certain  income  at 
a  given  age. 

With  the  consciousness  thus  of  an  appreciation 
of  their  labors,  and  a  payment  somewhat  in  propor- 
tion to  their  value,  and  a  permanent  connection  with 
their  humane  enterprise,  the  ordinary  employes  and 
officials  come  to  have  somewhat  of  the  interest  in  it 
which  men  take  in  selfish  pursuits,  and  will  exercise 
the  inventiveness,  economy,  and  energy  that  are 
shown  in  business  enterprises. 

Every  one  knows  how  almost  impossible  it  is  for  a 
charity  to  conduct,  for  instance,  a  branch  of  manufac- 
ture with  profit.  The  explanation  is  that  the  lower 
motives  are  not  applied  to  it.  Selfishness  is  more 
alert  and  economical  than  benevolence. 

On  the  other  side,  however,  it  will  not  be  best  to 
let  a  charity  become  too  much  of  a  business.  There 
must  always  be  a  certain  generosity  and  compassion, 
a  degree  of  freedom  in  management,  which  are  not 
allowed  in  business  undertakings.  The  agents  must 
have  heart  as  well  as  head.  The  moisture  of  compas- 
sion must  not  be  dried  up  by  too  much  discipline. 
Organization  must  not  swallow  up  the  soul.  Eou- 


372    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

tine  may  be  carried  so  far  as  to  make  the  aiding  of 
misery  the  mere  dry  working  of  a  machine. 

The  thought  must  ever  "be  kept  in  mind  that  each 
human  being,  however  low,  who  is  assisted,  is  a 
u  power  of  endless  life,"  with  capacities  and  possi- 
bilities which  cannot  be  measured  or  limited.  And 
that  one  whose  nature  Christ  has  shared  and  for 
whom  He  lived  and  died,  cannot  be  despised  or 
treated  as  an  animal  or  a  machine. 

If  the  directors  of  a  benevolent  institution  or 
enterprise  can  arouse  these  great  motives  in  their 
agents, — spiritual  enthusiasm  with  a  reasonable  grati- 
fication of  the  love  of  honor  and  a  hope  of  fair 
compensation, — they  will  undoubtedly  create  a  body 
of  workers  capable  of  producing  a  profound  impression 
on  the  evils  they  seek  to  remove. 

It  is  always  a  misfortune  for  an  agent  of  a  charity 
if  he  be  too  constantly  with  the  objects  of  his  benevo- 
lent labors.  He  either  becomes  too  much  accustomed 
to  their  misfortunes,  and  falls  into  a  spirit  of  routine 
with  them  ;  or,  if  of  tender  sympathies,  the  spring 
of  his  mind  is  bent  by  such  a  constant  burden  of 
misery,  and  he  loses  the  best  qualities  for  his  work 
— elasticity  and  hope.  Every  efficient  worker  in 
the  field  of  benevolence  should  have  time  and 
place  for  solitude,  and  for  other  pursuits  or  amuse- 
ments. 


TRUSTEES. 


373 


t 

DUTIES  OF  TRUSTEES. 

A  board  of  trustees  for  an  important  charity 
should  represent,  so  far  as  is  practicable,  the  different 
classes  and  professions  of  society.  There  is  danger 
in  a  board  being  too  wealthy  or  distinguished,  as  well 
as  too  humble.  First  of  all,  men  are  needed  who  have 
a  deep  moral  interest  in  the  work,  and  who  will  take 
a  practical  part  in  it.  Then  they  must  be  men  of 
such  high  character  and  integrity  that  the  community 
will  feel  no  anxiety  at  committing  to  them  "  trust 
funds."  As  few  "  figure-heads  "  should  be  taken  in  as 
possible — that  is,  persons  of  eminent  names,  for  the 
mere  purpose  of  making  an  impression  on  the  public. 
Men  of  wealth  are  needed  for  a  thousand  emergencies; 
men  of  moderate  means,  also,  who  can  appreciate 
practical  difficulties  peculiar  to  this  class;  men  of 
brains,  to  guide  and  suggest,  and  of  action,  to  impel. 
There  should  be  lawyers  in  such  a  board,  for  many 
cases  of  legal  difficulty  which  arise ;  and,  if  possible, 
physicians,  as  charities  have  so  much  to  do  with 
sanitary  questions.  Two  classes  only  had  better  not 
be  admitted :  men  of  very  large  wealth,  as  they  seldom 
contribute  more  than  persons  of  moderate  property, 
and  discourage  others  by  their  presence  in  the  board ; 
and  clergymen  with  parishes,  the  objection  to  the 
latter  being  that  they  have  no  time  for  such  labors, 
and  give  a  sectarian  air  to  the  charity. 


374    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

It  is  exceedingly  desirable  that  the  trustees  or 
managers  of  our  benevolent  institutions  should  take 
a  more  active  and  personal  part  in  their  management. 
The  peculiar  experience  which  a  successful  business 
career  gives — the  power  both  of  handling  details  and 
managing  large  interests;  the  capacity  of  organiza- 
tion ;  the  energy  and  the  careful  judgment  and  knowl- 
edge of  men  which  such  a  life  develops, — axe  the 
qualities  most  needed  in  managing  moral  and  benevo- 
lent "  causes." 

•  A  trustee  of  a  charity  will  often  see  considerations 
which  the  workers  in  it  do  not  behold,  and  will  be 
able  frequently  to  judge  of  its  operations  from  a  more 
comprehensive  point  of  view.  The  great  duty  of 
trustees,  of  course,  should  be  to  rigidly  inspect  all 
accounts  and  to  be  responsible  for  the  pecuniary 
integrity  of  the  enterprise.  The  carrying-out  of  the 
especial  plan  of  the  association  and  all  the  details 
should  be  left  with  one  executive  officer.  If  there  is 
too  great  interference  in  details  by  the  board  of 
management,  much  confusion  ensues,  and  often 
personal  jealousies  and  bickerings.  Many  of  our 
boards  of  charities  have  almost  been  broken  up 
by  internal  petty  cabals  and  quarrels.  The  agents 
of  benevolent  institutions,  especially  if  not  mingling 
much  with  the  world,  are  liable  to  small  jealousies 
and  rivalries. 

The  executive  officer  must  throw  the  energy  of  a 


THE  EXECUTIVE  OFFICER  375 


business  into  his  labor  of  benevolence.  He  must  be 
allowed  a  large  control  over  subordinates,  and  all  the 
machinery  of  the  organization  should  pass  through 
his  hands.  He  must  especially  represent  the  work, 
both  to  the  board  and  to  the  world.  If  his  hands  be 
tied  too  much,  he  will  soon  become  a  mere  routine- 
agent,  and  any  one  of  original  power  would  leave  the 
position.  Again,  in  his  dealings  with  the  heads  of  the 
various  departments  or  branches  of  the  work,  he 
must  seek  to  make  each  agent  feel  responsible,  and  to 
a  degree  independent,  so  that  his  labor  may  become 
a  life-work,  and  his  reputation  and  hope  of  means  may 
depend  on  his  energy  and  success.  If  on  all  proper 
occasions  he  seeks  to  do  full  justice  to  his  subordi- 
nates, giving  them  their  due  credit  and  promoting 
their  interests,  and  strives  to  impart  to  them  his  own 
enthusiasm,  he  will  avoid  all  jealousies  and  will  find 
that  the  charity  is  as  faithfully  served  as  any  business 
house. 

The  success  in  u  organization ??  is  mainly  due  to 
success  in  selecting  your  men.  Some  persons  have  a 
faculty  for  this  office ;  others  always  fail  in  it. 

Then,  having  the  proper  agents,  great  consideration 
is  due  towards  them.  Some  employers  treat  their 
subordinates  as  if  they  had  hardly  a  human  feeling. 
Respect  and  courtesy  always  make  those  who  serve 
you  more  efficient.  Too  much  stress,  too,  can  hardly 
be  laid  on  frank  and  unsuspicious  dealing  with  em- 


376    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

ploycs.  Suspicion  renders  its  objects  more  ignoble. 
A  man  who  manages  many  agents  must  show  much 
confidence ;  yet,  of  course,  be  strict  and  rigid  in  calling 
them  to  account.  It  will  be  better  for  him  also  not  to 
be  too  familiar  with  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

STATE  AID  FOR  CHARITIES. 

An  important  question  often  comes  up  in  regard 
to  our  charitable  associations :  "  How  shall  they  best 
be  supported  ?  v — by  endowment  from  the  State  or  by 
private  and  annual  assistance?  There  is  clearly  a 
right  that  all  charities  of  a  general  nature  should 
expect  some  help  from  the  public  Legislature,  The 
State  is  the  source  of  the  charters  of  all  corporations. 
One  of  the  main  duties  of  a  Legislature  is  to  care  for 
the  interests  of  the  poor  and  criminal.  The  English 
system,  dating  as  far  back  as  Henry  VIII.,  has  been  to 
leave  the  charge  of  the  poor  and  all  educational  insti- 
tutions, as  much  as  possible,  to  counties  or  local  bodies 
or  individuals.  It  has  been,  so  far  as  the  charge  of 
the  poor  is  concerned,  imitated  here.  But  in  neither 
country  has  it  worked  well ;  and  the  last  relic  of  it 
will  probably  soon  be  removed  in  this  State,  by  placing 
the  defective  persons  —  the  blind  and  dumb,  and 
insane  and  idiot,  and  the  orphans — in  the  several 
counties  in  State  institutions.  The  charge  of  crimi- 
nals and  reformatory  institutions  are  also  largely 
placed  under  State  control  and  supervision. 


378    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

The  object  of  a  State  Legislature  in  all  these  mat- 
ters is  bonum  publicum — the  public  weal.  If  they 
think  that  a  private  charity  is  accomplishing  a  public 
work  of  great  value,  which  is  not  and  perhaps  cannot 
be  accomplished  by  purely  public  institutions,  they 
apparently  have  the  same  right  to  tax  the  whole  com- 
munity, or  a  local  community,  for  its  benefit,  that  they 
have  now  to  tax  it  for  the  support  of  schools,  or  Alms- 
houses, or  Prisons,  or  Houses  of  Eefuge.  In  such  a 
case  it  need  not  be  a  matter  of  question  with  the 
Legislature  whether  the  charity  is  u  sectarian"  or  not; 
whether  it  teaches  Eoman  Catholicism,  or  Protestant- 
ism, or  the  Jewish  faith,  or  no  faith.  The  only  ques- 
tion with  the  governing  power  is,  "  Does  it  do  a  work 
of  public  value  not  done  by  public  institutions  ?  v  If 
it  does;  if,  for  instance,  it  is  a  Boman-Catholie  Beform- 
atory,  or  a  Protestant  House  of  Eefuge,  or  Chil- 
dren's Aid  Society,  the  Legislature,  knowing  that  all 
public  and  private  organizations  together  cannot  fully 
remedy  the  tremendous  evils  arising  from  a  class  of 
neglected  and  homeless  children,  is  perfectly  right 
in  granting  aid  to  such  institutions  without  refer- 
ence to  their  "  sectarian v  character.  It  reserves  to 
itself  the  right  of  inspection,  secured  in  this  State 
by  our  admirable  Board  of  Inspectors  of  State 
Charities;  and  it  can  at  any  time  repeal  the  char- 
ters of,  or  refuse  the  appropriations  to,  these  private 
associations.    But  thus  far  its  uniform  practice  has 


"SECTARIAN  schools."  379 

been  to  aid,  to  a  limited  degree,  private  charities  of 
this  nature. 

This  should  by  no  means  be  considered  a  ground 
for  demanding  similar  assistance  for  "  sectarian 
schools."  Education  is  secured  now  by  public  taxa- 
tion for  all  5  and  all  can  take  advantage  of  it.  There 
is  no  popular  necessity  for  Church  Schools,  and  the 
public  good  is  not  prompted  by  them  as  it  is  by  secular 
schools.  Where  there  are  children  too  poor  to  attend 
the  Public  Schools,  these  can  be  aided  by  private 
charitable  associations ;  and  of  these,  only  those 
should  be  assisted  by  the  State  which  have  no  sec- 
tarian character. 

Charities  which  are  entirely  supported  by  State 
and  permanent  endowment  are  liable,  as  the  experi- 
ence of  England  shows,  to  run  into  a  condition  of 
routine  and  lifelessness.  The  old  endowments  of 
Great  Britain  are  nests  of  abuses,  and  many  of  them 
are  now  being  swept  away.  A  State  charity  has  the 
advantage  of  greater  solidity  and  more  thorough  and 
expensive  machinery,  and  often  more  careful  organi- 
zation. But,  as  compared  with  our  private  charities, 
the  public  institutions  of  beneficence  are  dull  and  life- 
less. They  have  not  the  individual  enthusiasm  work- 
ing through  them,  with  its  ardor  and  power.  They 
are  more  like  machines. 

On*the  other  hand,  charities  supported  entirely  by 
individuals  will  always  have  but  a  small  scope.  The 


380    THE  DANGrEROTJS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

amount  of  what  may  be  called  the  u  charity  fund"  of 
the  community  is  comparatively  limited.  In  years  of 
disaster  or  war,  or  where  other  interests  absorb  the 
public,  it  will  dwindle  down  to  a  very  small  sum.  It 
is  distributed,  too,  somewhat  capriciously.  Sometimes 
a  u  sensation "  calls  it  forth  bountifully,  while  more 
real  demands  are  neglected.  An  important  benevo- 
lent association,  depending  solely  on  its  voluntary 
contributions  from  individuals,  will  always  be  Weak 
and  incomplete  in  its  machinery.  The  best  course  for 
the  j>ermanency  and  efficiency  of  a  charity  seems  to 
be,  to  make  it  depend  in  part  on  the  State,  that  it  may 
have  a  solid  foundation  of  support,  and  be  under 
official  supervision,  and  in  part  on  private  aid,  so  that 
it  may  feel  the  enthusiasm  and  activity  and  responsi- 
bility of  individual  effort.  The  "  Houses  of  Eefuge  " 
combine  public  and  private  assistance  in  a  manner 
which  has  proved  very  beneficial.  Their  means  come 
from  the  State,  while  their  governing  bodies  are  pri- 
vate, and  independent  of  politics.  The  New  York 
u  Juvenile  Asylum"  enjoys  both  public  and  private 
contributions,  but  has  a  private  board.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  u  Commissioners  of  Charities  and 
Correction"  are  supported  entirely  by  taxation, 
and,  until  they  had  the  services  of  a  Board  care- 
fully selected,  were  peculiarly  inefficient.  Many 
private  benevolent  associations  in  the  city  could  be 
mentioned  which  have  no  solid  foundation  of  public 


STATE  AID. 


381 


support  and  are  under  no  public  supervision,  and,  in 
consequence,  are  weak  and  slipshod  in  all  their  enter- 
prises. The  true  policy  of  the  Legislature  is  to 
encourage  and  supplement  private  activity  in  charities 
by  moderate  public  aid,  and  to  organize  a  strict  super- 
vision. 

The  great  danger  for  all  charities  is  in  machinery 
or  "plant  "  taking  more  importance  in  the  eyes  of  its 
organizers  than  the  work  itself. 

The  condition  of  the  buildings,  the  neat  and 
orderly  appearance  of  the  objects  of  the  charity,  and 
the  perfection  of  the  means  of  house-keeping,  become 
the  great  objects  of  the  officials  or  managers,  and  are 
what  most  strike  the  eyes  of  the  public.  But  all  these 
are  in  reality  nothing  compared  with  the  improvement 
in  character  and  mind  of  the  persons  aided,  and  this 
is  generally  best  effected  by  simple  rooms,  simple 
machinery,  and  constantly  getting  rid  of  the  subjects 
of  the  charity.  If  they  are  children,  the  natural  fam- 
ily is  a  thousand  times  better  charity  than  all  our 
machinery. 

The  more  an  Institution  or  Asylum  can  show  of 
those  drilled  and  machine-like  children,  the  less  real 
work  is  it  doing. 

Following  u  natural  laws 77  makes  sad  work  of  a 
charity-show  in  an  Asylum j  but  it  leaves  fruit  over 
the  land,  in  renovated  characters  and  useful  lives. 


382     THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  CHAEITIES. 

One  of  the  greatest  evils  connected  with  charities 
in  a  large  city  is  the  unreasonable  tendency  to  multi- 
ply them.  A  benevolent  individual  meets  with  a 
peculiar  case  of  distress  or  poverty,  his  feelings  are 
touched,  and  he  at  once  conceives  the  idea  of  an 
"  Institution"  for  this  class  of  human  evils.  He  soon 
finds  others  whom  he  can  interest  in  his  philanthropic 
object,  and  they  go  blindly  on  collecting  their  funds, 
and  perhaps  erecting  or  purchasing  their  buildings. 
When  the  house  is  finally  prepared,  the  organization 
perfected,  and  the,  cases  of  distress  relieved,  the 
founders  discover,  perhaps  to  their  dismay,  that  there 
are  similar  or  corresponding  Institutions  for  just  this 
class  of  unfortunates,  which  have  been  carrying  on 
their  quiet  labors  of  benevolence  for  years,  and  doing 
much  good.  The  new  Institution,  if  wise,  would  now 
prefer  to  turn  over  its  assets  and  machinery  to  the 
old ;  but,  ten  to  one,  the  new  workers  have  an  espe- 
cial pride  in  their  bantling,  and  cannot  bear  to  aban- 
don it,  or  they  see  what  they  consider  defects  in  the 
management  of  the  old,  and,  not  knowing  all  the  dif- 
ficulties of  the  work,  they  hope  to  do  better ;  or  their 
employes  have  a  personal  interest  in  keeping  up  the 
*  new  organization,  and  jjersuade  them  that  it  is  needed 
by  the  people. 

The  result,  in  nineteen  cases  out  of  twenty,  is  that 


COMPETITION  OF  CHARITIES.  383 


tlie  two  agencies  of  charity  are  continued  where  but 
one  is  needed.  Double  the  amount  of  money  is  used 
for  agents  and  machinery  which  is  wanted,  and,  to  a 
certain  degree,  the  charity  funds  of  the  community 
are  wasted. 

But  this  is  not  the  worst  effect.  The  poor  objects 
of  this  organization  soon  discover  that  they  have  a 
double  source  from  which  to  draw  their  supplies. 
They  become  pauperized,  and  their  faculties  are  em- 
ployed in  deriving  a  support  from  both  societies. 

By  and  by,  one  organization  falls  behind  in  its 
charity  labors,  and  now,  in  place  of  waiting  to  care- 
fully assist  the  poor,  it  tempts  the  poor  to  come 
to  it.  If  it  be  a  peculiar  kind  of  school,  not  much 
needed  in  the  quarter,  it  bribes  the  poor  children  by 
presents  to  abandon  the  rival  school  and  fill  its  own 
seats ;  if  an  Asylum,  it  seeks  far  and  near  for  those 
even  not  legitimately  its  subjects.  There  arises  a  sort 
of  competition  of  charity.  This  kind  of  rivalry  is 
exceedingly  bad  both  for  the  poor  and  the  public. 
There  are  evils  enough  in  the  community  which  all 
our  machinery  and  wealth  cannot  cure,  and  thus  to 
increase  or  stimulate  misfortunes  in  order  to  relieve, 
is  the  height  of  absurdity.  One  effect  often  is,  that 
the  public  become  disgusted  with  all  organized  char- 
ity, and  at  last  fancy  that  societies  of  benefaction  do 
as  much  evil  as  good. 

This  city  is  full  of  multiplied  charities,  which  are 


384    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

constantly  encroaching  on  each  other's  field  5  and  yet 
there  are  masses  of  evil  and  calamity  here  which  they 
scarcely  touch.  The  number  of  poor  people  who 
enjoy  a  comfortable  living,  derived  from  a  long  study 
and  experience  of  these  various  agencies  of  benevo- 
lence, would  be  incredible  to  any  one  not  familiar 
with  the  facts.  They  pass  from  one  to  the  other; 
knowing  exactly  their  conditions  of  assistance  and 
meeting  their  requirements,  and  live  thus  by  a  sort 
of  science  of  alms.  The  industry  and  ingenuity  they 
employ  in  this  pauper  trade  are  truly  remarkable. 
Probably  not  one  citizen  in  a  thousand  could  so  well 
recite  the  long  list  of  charitable  societies  and  agencies 
in  New  York,  as  one  of  these  busy  dependents  on 
charity.  Nor  do  these  industrious  paupers  confine 
themselves  to  secular  and  general  societies.  They 
have  their  churches  and  missions,  on  whose  skirts 
they  hang ;  and  beyond  them  a  large  and  influential 
circle  of  lady  patronesses  who  support  and  protect 
them.  We  venture  to  say  there  are  very  few  ladies 
of  position  in  New  York  who  do  not  have  a  numerous 
clientele  of  needy  women  or  unfortunate  men  that 
depend  on  them  year  after  year,  and  always  follow 
them  up  and  discover  their  residence,  however  much 
they  may  change  it.  These  people  have  almost  lost 
their  energy  of  character,  and  all  power  of  industry 
(except  in  pursuing  the  different  charities  and  patron- 
esses), through  this  long  and  indiscriminate  assist- 


THE  TRADE  OF  ALMS.  385 

ance.  They  are  paupers,  not  in  Poor-houses,  and  de- 
pendents on  alms,  living  at  home.  They  are  often 
worse  off  than  if  they  had  never  been  helped. 

This  trade  of  alms  and  dependence  on  charities 
ought  to  he  checked.  It  demoralizes  the  poor,  and 
weakens  public  confidence  in  wise  and  good  charities. 
It  tends  to  keep  the  rich  from  all  benefactions,  and 
makes  many  doubt  whether  charity  ever  really 
benefits. 

There  are  various  modes  in  which  this  evil  might 
be  remedied.  In  the  first  place,  no  individual  should 
subscribe  to  a  new  charity  until  he  has  satisfied  his 
mind  in  some  way  that  it  is  needed,  and  that  he  is  not 
helping  to  do  twice  the  same  good  thing. 

There  ought  to  be  also  in  such  a  city  as  ours  a  sort 
of  u  Board  79  or  u  Bureau  of  Charities,77  where  a  person 
could  get  information  about  all  now  existing,  whether 
Catholic,  Protestant,  Jewish,  or  secular,  and  where 
the  agents  of  these  could  ascertain  if  they  were  help- 
ing the  same  objects  twice. 

Lists  of  names  and  addresses  of  those  assisted 
could  be  kept  here  for  examination,  and  frequent 
comparisons  could  be  made  by  the  agents  of  these 
societies  or  by  individuals  interested.  One  society, 
formed  for  a  distinct  object,  and  finding  a  case  need- 
ing quite  a  distinct  mode  of  relief  or  assistance,  could 
here  at  once  ascertain  where  to  transfer  the  case,  or 
what  the  conditions  of  help  were  in  another  associa- 

17 


386    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


tion.  Here,  individuals  having  difficult,  perplexing, 
or  doubtful  cases  of  charity  on  hand  would  ascertain 
what  they  should  do  with  them,  and  whether  they 
were  merely  supporting  a  person  now  dependent  on 
an  association  from  such  an  office.  Oases  of  poverty 
and  misfortune  might  be  visited  and  examined  by 
experts  in  charity,  and  the  truth  ascertained,  where 
ordinary  individuals,  inquiring,  would  be  certain  to 
be  deceived.  Here,  too,  the  honest  and  deserving 
poor  could  learn  where  they  should  apply  for  relief. 

Such  a  "Bureau"  would  be  of  immense  benefit  to 
the  city.  It  would  aid  in  keeping  the  poor  from 
pauperism  ;  it  would  put  honest  poverty  in  the  way 
of  proper  assistance ;  simplify  and  direct  charities, 
and  enable  the  "  charity  fund  79  of  the  city  to  be  used 
directly  for  the  evils  needing  treatment. 

Both  the  public  and  benevolent  associations  would 
be  benefited  by  it,  and  much  useless  expenditure  and 
labor  saved.  Under  it,  each  charitable  association 
could  labor  in  its  own  field,  and  encroach  on  no 
other,  and  the  public  confidence  in  the  wise  use  of 
charity  funds  be  strengthened. 

In  such  a  city  as  ours  ifc  would  probably  be  hardly 
possible  to  follow  the  Boston  plan,  and  put  all  the 
offices  of  the  great  charities  in  one  building,  yet  there 
could  easily  be  one  office  of  information,  or  a  "Bureau 
of  Charities,"  which  might  be  sustained  by  general 
contributions.    Perhaps  the  State  u  Board  of  Chari- 


BUREAU  OF  CHARITIES.  387 

ties  "  would  father  and  direct  it7  if  private  means  sup- 
ported it. 

In  one  respect,  it  would  be  of  immense  advantage 
to  have  this  task  undertaken  by  the  State  Board,  as 
they  have  the  right  to  inspect  charitable  institutions, 
and  their  duty  is  to  expose  "  bogus  charities."  Of 
the  latter  there  are  only  too  many  in  this  city.  Nu- 
merous lazy  individuals  make  lucrative  livelihoods  by 
gathering  funds  for  charities  which  only  exist  on 
paper.  These  swindlers  could  be  best  exposed  and 
prosecuted  by  a  u  State  Board." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


HOW  BEST  TO  GIVE  ALMS! 
"TAKE,  NOT  GIVE." 

We  were  much  struck  by  a  reply,  recently,  of  a 
City  Missionary  in  East  London,  who  was  asked  what 
he  gave  to  the  poor. 

"Give!"  he  said,  "we  never  give  now;  we  take!" 
He  explained  that  the  remedy  of  alms,  for  the  terrible 
evils  of  that  portion  of  London,  had  been  tried  ad 
nauseam,  and  that  they  were  all  convinced  of  its  little 
permanent  good,  and  their  great  object  was,  at  pres- 
ent, to  induce  the  poor  to  save;  and  for  this,  they 
were  constantly  urgent  to  get  money  from  these  peo- 
ple, when  they  had  a  little.    They  "took,  not  gave!" 

So  convinced  is  the  writer,  by  twenty  years'  expe- 
rience among  the  poor,  that  alms  are  mainly  a  bane, 
that  the  mere  distribution  of  gifts  by  the  great  char- 
ity in  which  he  is  engaged  seldom  affords  him  much 
gratification.  The  long  list  of  benefactions  which  the 
Reports  record,  would  be  exceedingly  unsatisfactory, 
if  they  were  not  parts  and  branches  of  a  great  pre- 
ventive and  educational  movement. 

The  majority  of  people  are  most  moved  by  hearing 


ALMS-GIVING. 


389 


that  so  many  thousand  pairs  of  shoes,  so  many  arti- 
cles of  clothing,  or  so  many  loaves  of  bread  are 
given  to  the  needy  and  suffering  by  some  benevolent 
agency. 

The  experienced  friend  of  the  poor  will  only  grieve 
at  such  alms,  unless  they  are  accompanied  with  some 
influences  to  lead  the  recipients  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves. The  worst  evil  in  the  world  is  not  poverty 
or  hunger,  but  the  want  of  manhood  or  character 
which  alms-giving  directly  occasions . 

The  English  have  tried  alms  until  the  kingdom 
seems  a  vast  Poor-house,  and  the  problem  of  Pauper- 
ism has  assumed  a  gigantic  and  almost  insoluble 
form.  The  nation  have  given  everything  but  Educa- 
tion, and  the  result  is  a  vast  multitude  of  wretched 
persons  in  whom  pauperism  is  planted  like  a  disease 
of  the  blood — who  cannot  be  anything  but  dependents 
and  idlers. 

In  London  alone,  twenty-five  million  dollars  per 
annum  are  expended  in  organized  charities;  yet,  till 
the  year  1871,  no  general  system  of  popular  educa- 
tion had  been  formed. 

This  country  has  been  more  fortunate  and  wiser. 
We  had  room  and  work  enough,  we  provided  educa- 
tion before  alms,  and,  especially  among  our  native- 
born  population,  have  checked  pauperism,  as  it  never 
was  checked  before  in  any  civilized  community. 

No  one  can  imagine,  who  has  not  been  familiar 


390    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

with  the  lowest  classes,  how  entirely  degraded  a  char- 
acter may  become,  where  there  is  an  uncertain  depend- 
ence on  public  and  organized  alms.  The  faculties  of 
the  individual  are  mainly  bent  on  securing  support  by 
other  means  than  industry.  Cunning,  deception, 
flattery,  and  waiting  for  chances,  become  the  means 
of  livelihood.  Self-respect  is  lost,  and  with  it  go  the 
best  qualities  of  the  soul.  True  manhood  and  true 
womanhood  are  eaten  away.  The  habit  of  labor,  and 
the  hope  and  courage  of  a  self-supporting  human 
being,  and  the  prudence  which  guards  against  future 
evils,  are  almost  destroyed.  The  man  becomes  a 
dawdler  and  waiter  on  chances,  and  is  addicted  to 
the  lowest  vices  ;  his  children  grow  up  worse  than 
he,  and  make  sharpness  or  crime  a  substitute  for 
beggary.  The  woman  is  sometimes  stripped  of  the 
best  feelings  of  her  sex  by  this  dependence.  Not 
once  or  twice  only  have  we  known  such  a  woman 
steal  the  clothes  from  fyer  half-starved  babe,  as 
she  was  delivering  it  over  to  strangers  to  care  for. 
There  are  able-bodied  men  of  this  kind  in  New 
York  who,  every  winter,  as  regularly  as  the  snow 
falls,  commit  some  petty  offense,  that  they  may  be 
supported  at  public  expense. 

When  this  disease  of  pauperism  is  fairly  mingled 
in  the  blood  of  children,  their  condition  is  almost 
hopeless.  They  will  not  work,  or  go  to  school,  or 
try  to  leam  anything  useful ;  their  faculties  are 


PAUPERS. 


391 


all  bent  to  the  tricks  of  a  roving,  begging  life;  the 
self-respect  of  their  sex,  if  girls,  is  lost  in  child- 
hood; they  are  slatternly,  lazy,  and  dissolute.  If 
they  grow  up  and  marry,  they  marry  men  of  their 
own  kind,  and  breed  paupers  and  prostitutes. 

We  know  of  an  instance  like  this  in  an  Alms-house 
in  Western  New  York.  A  mother,  in  decent  circum- 
stances, with  an  infant,  was  driven  into  it  by  stress 
of  poverty.  Her  child  grew  up  a  pauper,  and  both 
became  accustomed  to  a  life  of  dependence.  The 
child — a  girl — went  forth  when  she  was  old  enough 
to  work,  and  soon  returned  with  an  illegitimate  babe. 
She  then  remained  with  her  child.  This  child — also  a 
girl — grew  up  in  like  manner,  and,  occasionally,  when 
old  enough,  also  went  forth  to  labor,  but  returned 
finally,  with  her  illegitimate  child,  and  at  length  be- 
came a  common  pauper  and  prostitute,  so  that,  when 
the  State  Commissioner  of  Charity,  Dr.  Hoyt,  visited, 
in  his  official  tour,  this  Poor-house,  he  found  four  gen- 
erations of  paupers  and  prostitutes  in  one  family,  in 
this  place ! 

The  regular  habitu  's  of  Alms-houses  are  bad 
enough  ;  but  it  has  sometimes  seemed  to  me  that 
the  outside  dependents  on  an  irregular  public  charity 
are  worse.  They  are  usually  better  off  than  the 
inmates  of  Poor-houses,  and,  therefore,  must  de- 
ceive more  to  secure  aid;  the  process  of  obtaining 
it  continually  degrades  them,  and  they  are  tempted 


392    THE  DANCEROTJS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

to  leave  regular  industry  for  this  unworthy  means  of 
support. 

"  Outdoor  relief"  is  responsible  for  much  of  the 
abuses  of  the  English  pauper  administration. 

We  are  convinced  that  it  ought  to  be,  if  not  aban- 
doned, at  least  much  circumscribed  by  our  own  Com- 
missioners of  Charities. 

Still,  private  alms,  though  more  indiscriminately  be- 
stowed, and  often  on  entirely  unworthy  objects,  do  not, 
in  our  judgment,  leave  the  same  evil  effect  as  public. 
There  is  less  degradation  with  the  former,  and  more 
of  human  sympathy,  on  both  sides.  The  influence  of 
the  giver's  character  may  sometimes  elevate  the  de- 
based nature  of  an  unworthy  dependent  on  charity. 
The  personal  connection  of  a  poor  creature  and  a  fine 
lady,  is  not  so  bad  as  that  of  a  pauper  to  the  State. 

Still,  private  alms  in  our  large  cities  are  abused  to 
an  almost  unlimited  extent.  Persons  who  have  but 
little  that  they  can  afford  to  give,  discover,  after  long 
experience,  that  the  majority  of  their  benefactions 
have  been  indiscreetly  bestowed. 

When  one  thinks  of  the  thousands  of  cases  in  a 
city  like  New  York,  of  unmitigated  misfortune  5  of 
widows  with  large  families,  suddenly  left  sick  and 
helpless  on  the  world;  of  lonely  and  despairing 
women  struggling  against  a  sea  of  evils ;  of  strong 
men  disabled  by  accident  or  sickness ;  of  young  chil- 
dren abandoned  or  drifting  uncared-for  on  the  streets, 


CARELESS  ALMS-GIVING. 


393 


and  how  many  of  these  are  never  wisely  assisted,  it 
seems  a  real  calamity  that  any  person  should  bestow 
charity  carelessly  or  on  unworthy  objects. 

The  individual  himself  ought  to  seek  out  the  sub- 
jects whom  he  desires  to  relieve,  and  ascertain  their 
character  and  habits,  and  help  in  such  a  way  as  not 
to  impair  their  self-respect  or  weaken  their  independ- 
ence. 

The  managers  of  the  Charity  I  have  been  describ- 
ing have  especially  sought  to  avoid  the  evils  of  alms- 
giving. While  many  thousands  of  dollars'  worth  is 
given  each  year  in  various  forms  of  benefaction,  not  a 
penny  is  bestowed  which  does  not  bear  in  its  influence 
on  character.  We  do  not  desire  so  much  to  give  alms 
as  to  prevent  the  demand  for  alms.  In  every  branch 
of  our  work  we  seek  to  destroy  the  growth  of  pau- 
perism. 

Nothing  in  appearance  is  so  touching  to  the  feel- 
ings of  the  humane  as  a  ragged  and  homeless  boy. 
The  first  impulse  is  to  clothe  and  shelter  him  free  of 
cost.  But  experience  soon  shows  that  if  you  put  a 
comfortable  coat  on  the  first  idle  and  ragged  lad  who 
applies,  you  will  have  fifty  half-clad  lads,  many  of 
whom  possess  hidden  away  a  comfortable  outfit,  leav- 
ing their  business  next  day,  "to  get  jackets  for 
nothing." 

You  soon  discover,  too,  that  the  houseless  boy  is 
not  so  utterly  helpless  as  he  looks.    He  has  a  thou- 


394    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


sand  means  of  supporting  himself  honestly  in  the 
streets,  if  he  will.  Perhaps  all  that  he  needs  is  a 
small  loan  to  start  his  street-trade  with,  or  a  shelter 
for  a  few  nights,  for  which  he  can  give  his  "  promise 
to  pay/'  or  some  counsel  and  instruction,  or  a  few 
weeks'  schooling. 

Our  Lodging-house-keepers  soon  learn  that  the 
best  humanity  towards  the  boys  is  "  to  take,  not 
give."  Bach  lad  pays  for  his  lodging,  and  then  feels 
independent  5  if  he  is  too  poor  to  do  this,  he  is  taken 
in  u  on  trust,"  and  pays  his  bill  when  business  is  suc- 
cessful. He  is  not  clothed  at  once,  unless  under  some 
peculiar  and  unfortunate  circumstances,  but  is  induced 
to  save  some  pennies  every  day  until  he  have  enough 
to  buy  his  own  clothing.  If  he  has  not  enough  to 
start  a  street-trade  with,  the  superintendent  loans 
him  a  small  sum  to  begin  business. 

The  following  is  the  experience  in  this  matter  of 
Mr.  O'Connor,  the  superintendent  of  the  News-boys' 
Lodging-house : — 

"  The  Howland  Fund,  noticed  in  previous  reports  as  having 
been  established  by  B.  J.  Howland,  Esq.,  one  of  our  Trustees, 
continues  to  be  the  means  of  doing  good.  We  have  loaned  from 
it  during  the  nine  months  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  dollars 
and  sixty  cents,  on  which  the  borrowers  have  realized  three 
hundred  and  seven  dollars  and  thirty-nine  cents.  They  have 
thus  made  the  handsome  profit  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  per 
cent,  on  the  amount  borrowed.  It  has  in  many  cases  been  re- 
turned in  a  few  hours.  We  have  loaned  it  in  sums  of  five  cents 
and  upward  ;  we  have  had  but  few  defaulters.    Of  the  seventeen 


LOAN-FUND. 


395 


dollars  and  fifty-five  cents  due  last  year,  six  dollars  and  fifty 
cents  has  been  returned,  leaving  at  this  time  standing  out  eleven 
dollars  and  five  cents/' 

When  large  supplies  of  shoes  and  clothing  are 
given,  it  is  usually  at  Christmas,  as  an  expression  of 
the  good- will  of  the  season,  or  from  some  particular 
friend  of  the  boys  as  an  indication  of  his  regard,  and 
thus  carries  less  of  the  ill  effects  of  alms  with  the 
gift 

The  very  air  of  these  Lodging-houses  is  that  of 
independence,  and  no  paupers  ever  graduate  from 
them.  We  even  discourage  the  street-trades  as  a  per- 
manent business,  and  have,  therefore,  never  formed  a 
u  Boot-black  Brigade,"  as  has  been  done  in  London, 
on  the  ground  that  such  occupations  are  uncertain 
and  vagrant  in  habit,  and  lead  to  no  settled  business. 

Our  end  and  aim  with  every  street-rover,  is  to  get 
him  to  a  farm,  and  put  him  on  the  land.  For  this 
reason  we  lavish  our  gifts  on  the  lads  who  choose  the 
country  for  their  work.  We  feed  and  shelter  them 
gratuitously,  if  necessary.  We  clothe  them  from  top 
to  toe;  and  the  gifts  bring  no  harm  with  them. 
These  poor  lads  have  sometimes  repaid  these  gifts 
tenfold  in  later  life,  in  money  to  the  Society.  And 
the  community  have  been  repaid  a  hundredfold,  by 
the  change  of  a  city  vagabond  to  an  honest  and  indus- 
trious farmer. 

Our  Industrial  Schools  might  almost  be  called 


396    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

"  Reformatories  of  Pauperism."  Mne-tenths  of  the 
children  are  beggars  when  they  enter,  but  they  go 
forth  self-respecting  and  self-supporting  young  girls. 

Food,  indeed,  is  given  every  day  to  those  most  in 
need ;  but,  being  connected  thus  with  a  School,  it  pro- 
duces none  of  the  ill  effects  of  alms.  The  subject  of 
clothes-giving  to  these  children  is,  however,  a  very 
difficult  one.  The  best  plan  is  found  to  be  to  give  the 
garments  as  rewards  for  good  conduct,  punctuality, 
and  industry,  the  amount  being  graded  by  careful 
"  marks" ;  yet  the  humane  teacher  will  frequently  dis- 
cover an  unfortunate  child  without  shoes  in  the  winter 
snow,  or  scantily  clad,  who  has  not  yet  attained  the 
proper  number  of  marks,  and  she  will  very  privately 
perhaps  relieve  the  want:  knowing,  as  the  teacher 
does,  every  poor  family  whose  children  attend  the 
School,  she  is  not  often  deceived,  and  her  gifts  are 
worthily  bestowed. 

The  daily  influence  of  the  School-training  in  indus- 
try and  intelligence  discourages  the  habit  of  begging. 
The  child  soon  becomes  ashamed  of  it,  and  when  she 
finally  leaves  school,  she  has  a  pride  in  supporting 
herself. 

Gifts  of  garments,  shoes,  and  the  like,  to  induce 
children  to  attend,  are  not  found  wise ;  though  now 
and  then  a  family  will  be  discovered  so  absolutely 
naked  and  destitute,  that  some  proper  clothing  is  a 
necessary  condition  to  their  even  entering  the  School. 


"TAKE,  not  give."  397 

Some  of  the  teachers  very  wisely  induce  the  pa- 
rents to  deposit  their  little  savings  with  them,  and 
perhaps  pay  them  interest  to  encourage  saving.  Oth- 
ers, by  the  aid  of  Mends,  have  bought  coal  at  whole- 
sale prices,  and  retailed  it  without  profit,  to  the  parents 
of  the  children. 

The  principle  throughout  all  the  operations  of  the 
Children's  Aid  Society,  is  only  to  give  assistance 
where  it  bears  directly  on  character,  to  discourage 
pauperism,  to  cherish  independence,  to  place  the  poor- 
est of  the  city,  the  homeless  children,  as  we  have  so 
often  said,  not  in  Alms-houses  or  Asylums,  but  on 
farms,  where  they  support  themselves  and  add  to  the 
wealth  of  the  nation;  to  "take,  rather  than  give;'7 
or  to  give  education  and  work  rather  than  alms ;  to 
place  all  their  thousands  of  little  subjects  under  such 
influences  and  such  training  that  they  will  never  need 
either  private  or  public  charity. 


CHAPTBE  XXXIII. 

HOW  SHALL  CRIMINAL  CHILDREN  BE  TREATED? 
REFORMATORIES. 

A  child,  whether  good  or  bad,  is,  above  all 
things,  an  individual  requiring  individual  treatment 
and  care.  Let  any  of  our  readers,  having  a  little  fellow 
given  to  mischief,  who  had  at  length  broken  his 
neighbor's  windows,  or  with  a  propensity  to  stealing, 
or  with  a  quick  temper  which  continually  brings  him 
into  unpleasant  scrapes,  imagine  him  suddenly  put 
into  an  u  Institution v  for  reform,  henceforth  desig- 
nated as  "  D  »  of  "  Class  43,"  or  as  "  Eb.  193,"  roused 
up  to  prayers  in  the  morning  with  eight  hundred 
others,  put  to  bed  at  the  stroke  of  the  bell,  knowing 
nothing  of  his  teacher  or  pastor,  except  as  one  of  a 
class  of  a  hundred,  his  own  little  wants,  weaknesses, 
foibles  and  temptations  utterly  unfamiliar  to  any 
one,  his  only  friends  certain  lads  who  had  been  in 
the  place  longer,  and,  perhaps,  had  known  much 
more  of  criminal  life  than  he  himself,  treated  thus 
altogether  as  a  little  machine,  or  as  one  of  a  regiment. 

What  could  he  expect  in  the  way  of  reform  in  such 
a  case  ?    He  might,  indeed,  hope  that  the  lad  would 


CONGREGATED  REFORMATORY. 


399 


feel  the  penalty  and  disgrace  of  being  thus  imprisoned, 
and  that  the  strict  discipline  would  control  careless 
habits,  but  he  would  soon  see  that  the  chance  of  a 
reform  of  character  was  extremely  slight. 

There  was  evidently  no  personal  influence  on  the 
child.  Whatever  bad  habits  or  traits  he  had,  were 
likely  to  be  uneradicated.  The  strongest  agencies 
upon  him  were  those  of  his  companions  ;  and  what 
boys,  even  of  the  moral  classes,  teach  one  another 
when  they  are  together  in  masses,  need  not  be  told. 
"Were  he  to  be  there  a  length  of  time,  the  most  power- 
ful forces  that  mould  and  form  boys  in  the  world 
outside,  would  be  absent. 

The  affection  of  family,  the  confidence  of  respected 
friends,  the  hope  of  making  a  name,  and  the  desire  of 
,  money  and  position — these  impulses  must  be  banished 
from  the  Asylum  or  Eeformatory.  The  lad's  only 
hope  is  to  escape  certain  penalties,  or  win  certain 
marks,  and  get  out  of  the  place.  Now  and  then, 
indeed,  a  chaplain  of  rare  spiritual  gifts  may  suc- 
ceed in  wielding  a  personal  influence,  in  such  an 
Institution,  over  individual  children  5  but  this  must, 
of  necessity,  be  unfrequent,  on  account  of  the  great 
numbers  under  his  charge. 

If  the  subject  of  a  Eeformatory  be  a  poor  boy  or 
girl,  the  kind  of  work  usually  chosen  is  not  the  one 
best  suited  to  a  child  of  this  class,  or  which  he  will  be 
apt  to  take  up  afterwards.    It  is  generally  some  plain 


400    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

and  easy  trade-work,  like  shoe-pegging,  or  chair- 
bottoming,  or  pocket-book  manufacture.  The  lad  is 
kept  for  years  at  this  drudgery,  and  when  he  leaves 
the  place,  has  no  capital  laid  up  of  a  skilled  trade. 
He  finds  such  employments  crowded,  and  he  seldom 
enters  them  again.  Moreover,  if  he  has  been  a  va- 
grant (as  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  is  probable),  or  a 
a  little  sharper  and  thief  of  the  city,  or  a  boy  unwilling 
to  labor,  and  unfitted  for  steady  industry,  these  years 
at  a  table  in  a  factory  do  not  necessarily  give  him  a 
taste  for  work  ;  they  often  only  disgust  him. 

Were  such  lads,  on  the  other  hand,  put  in  gardens, 
or  at  farm- work,  they  would  find  much  more  pleasure 
in  it.  The  watching  the  growth  of  plants,  the  occa- 
sional chance  for  fruit-gathering,  the  "  spurts  "  of 
work  peculiar  to  farming,  the  open  air  and  sunshine, 
and  dealing  with  flowers  and  grains,  with  cattle, 
horses,  and  fowls,  are  all  attractive  to  children,  and 
especially  to  children  of  this  class.  Moreover,  when 
they  have  learned  the  business,  they  are  sure  in  this 
country,  of  the  best  occupation  which  a  laboring  man 
can  have ;  and  when  they  graduate,  they  can  easily 
find  places  on  farms,  where  they  will  get  good  wages, 
and  be  less  exposed  to  temptations  than  if  engaged  in 
city  trades.  There  seems  to  me  something,  too,  in 
labor  in  the  soil,  which  is  more  medicinal  to  "  minds 
diseased "  than  work  in  shops.  The  nameless  physical 
and  mental  maladies  which  take  possession  of  these 


WORK  IN  THE  SOIL. 


401 


children  of  vice  and  poverty  are  more  easily  cnred 
and  driven  off  in  outdoor  than  indoor  labor. 

I  am  disposed  to  think  this  is  peculiarly  true  of 
young  girls  who  have  begun  criminal  courses.  They 
have  been  accustomed  to  such  excitement  and  stir, 
that  the  steady  toil  of  a  kitchen  and  household  seldom 
reforms  them. 

The  remarkable  success  of  Mr.  Pease  for  a  few 
years  in  his  labors  for  abandoned  women  in  the  Five 
Points,  was  due  mainly  to  the  incessant  stir  and 
activity  he  infused  into  his  "  House  of  Industry," 
which  called  off  the  minds  of  these  poor  creatures 
from  their  sins  and  temptations.  But,  better  than 
this,  would  be  the  idea,  so  often  broached,  of  a 
u  School  in  gardening  "  for  young  girls,  in  which  they 
could  be  taught  in  the  open  air,  and  learn  the  florist's 
and  gardener's  art.  This  busy  and  pleasant  labor, 
increasingly  profitable  every  year,  would  often  drive 
out  the  evil  spirit,  and  fit  the  workers  for  paying 
professions  after  they  left  the  School. 

The  true  plan  for  a  Eeformatory  School,  as  has  so 
often  been  said,  is  the  Family  System  ;  that  is,  break- 
ing the  Asylum  up  into  small  houses,  with  little 
"  groups"  of  children  in  each,  under  their  own  imme- 
diate "  director  19  or  teacher,  who  knows  every  indivi- 
dual, and  adapts  his  government  to  the  wants  of  each. 

The  children  cook  meals,  and  do  house-labor,  and 
eat  in  these  small  family  groups.  Each  child,  whether 


402    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

boy  or  girl,  learns  in  this  way  something  of  house- 
keeping, and  the  mode  of  caring  for  the  wants  of  a 
small  family.  He  has  to  draw  his  water,  split  his 
wood,  kindle  his  fires,  light  his  lamps,  and  take  care 
of  the  Cottage,  as  he  will,  by  and  by,  have  to  do  in 
his  own  little  "  shanty v  or  "  cottage."  Around  the 
Cottage  should  be  a  small  garden,  which  each  u  fam- 
ily v  would  take  a  pride  in  cultivating ;  and  beyond, 
the  larger  farm,  which  they  all  night  work  together. 

In  a  Keformatory,  after  such  a  plan  as  this,  the 
children  are  as  near  the  natural  condition  as  they  ever 
can  be  in  a  public  institution.  The  results,  if  men  of 
humanity  and  wisdom  be  in  charge,  will  justify  the 
increased  trouble  and  labor.  The  expense  can  hardly 
be  greater,  as  buildings  and  outfit  will  cost  so  much 
less  than  with  the  large  establishments.  The  only  de- 
fect would,  perhaps,  be  that  the  labor  of  the  inmates 
would  not  bring  in  so  much  pecuniary  return,  as  in 
the  present  Houses  of  Befuge;  but  the  improved 
effects  on  the  children  would  more  than  counter- 
balance to  the  community  the  smaller  income  of  the 
Asylum.  Nor  is  it  certain  that  farm  and  garden 
labor  would  be  less  profitable  to  the  Institution. 

If  we  are  correctly  informed,  the  only  Alms-house 
which  supports  itself  in  the  country  is  one  near  New 
Haven,  that  relies  entirely  on  the  growth  and  sale  of 
garden  products  Under  the  Farm  and  Family  School 
for  children,  legally  committed,  we  should  have,  un- 


FAMILY  REFORMATORIES. 


403 


doubtedly,  a  far  larger  proportion  of  thorough  reforms 
and  successes,  than  under  the  congregated  and  indus- 
trial Asylums. 

The  most  successful  Eeformatories  of  Europe  are 
of  this  kind.  The  "Rauhe  Haus,"  at  Hamburg,  and 
Mr.  Sydney  Turner's  Farm  School  at  Tower  Hill,  Eng- 
land, show  a  greater  proportion  of  reformed  cases  than 
any  congregated  Eeformatories  that  we  are  familiar 
with.  The  Mettrai  colony  records  ninety  per  cent,  as 
reformed,  which  is  an  astonishingly  large  proportion. 
This  success  is  probably  much  due  to  the  esprit  du 
corps  which  has  become  a  tradition  in  the  school,  and 
the  extent  to  which  the  love  of  distinction  and  honor- 
able emulation — most  powerful  motives  on  the  French 
mind — have  been  cultivated  in  the  pupils. 

We  do  not  deny  great  services  and  successes  to  the 
existing  congregated  Reformatories  of  this  country. 
But  their  success  has  been  in  spite  of  their  system. 
From  the  new  Family  Reformatories,  opened  in  differ- 
ent States,  we  hope  for  even  better  results. 


CHAPTEK  XXXIY. 

WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  FOUNDLINGS  ? 

Some  of  our  citizens  are  now  seeking  to  open  in 
New  York  a  Foundling  Asylum  to  be  conducted 
under  Protestant  influences.  A  Eoman  Catholic 
Hospital  for  Foundlings  was  recently  established, 
and  is  now  receiving  aid  from  the  city  treasury. 
In  view  of  these  humane  efforts,  attended,  as  they 
must  be,  by  vast  expense,  it  becomes  necessary  to 
inquire  what  is  the  best  system  of  management 
attained  by  experience  in  other  countries.  Of  the 
need  of  some  peculiar  shelter  or  shelters  for  ille- 
gitimate children  in  this  city  there  can  be  no 
question. 

Those  who  have  to  do  with  the  poorer  classes 
are  shocked  and  pained  by  the  constant  instances 
presented  to  them,  of  infants  neglected  or  aban- 
doned by  their  mothers,  or  of  unmarried  mothers 
with  infants  in  such  need  and  desperation,  that 
infanticide  is  often  the  easiest  escape.  Something 
evidently  should  be  done  for  both  mothers  and 
children. 


ILLEGITIMATE  CHILDREN. 


405 


THE  NUMBERS. 

Of  the  numbers  of  illegitimate  children  in  New 
York,  it  is  difficult  to  speak  with  any  precision.  In 
European  countries,  we  know  almost  exactly  the  pro- 
portion of  illegitimate  to  legitimate  births.  In  Sar- 
dinia, it  is  2.09  per  cent. ;  in  Sweden,  6.56 ;  in  Eng- 
land, 6.72;  in  France,  '7.01;  in  Denmark,  9.35;  in 
Austria,  11.38 ;  in  Bavaria,  20.59.  Among  cities,  it 
is  between  3  and  4  per  cent,  in  English  cities ;  in 
Genoa,  8  ;  in  Berlin,  14.9 ;  in  St.  Petersburg,  18.8  ;  in 
Vienna,  46.  The  general  average  of  illegitimate  to 
legitimate  children  in  Europe  is  12.8  per  cent. 

Supposing  that  the  average  in  New  York  is  the 
same  as  in  Amsterdam  or  London,  say  four  per  cent., 
there  were  in  the  five  years,  from  1860  to* 1865,  out 
of  the  144,724  children  born  (living  or  dead)  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  5,788  illegitimate,  or  an  average 
each  year  of  1,157  children  born  out  of  wedlock. 
More  than  a  thousand  illegitimate  children  are  thus, 
in  all  probability,  thrown  upon  this  community  every 
year. 

Though  this  is  a  mere  estimate,  there  is  a  strong 
presumptive  evidence  of  its  not  being  exaggerated, 
from  the  enormous  proportion,  in  New  York,  of  still- 
births, which  reached  in  one  year  (1868)  the  sum  of 
2,195,  or  more  than  seven  per  cent,  of  the  whole  num- 
ber of  births.    Now,  it  is  well-known  that  the  women 


406    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

who  are  mothers  of  illegitimate  children  are  much 
more  likely  to  be  badly  attended  or  neglected  in  their 
confinement  than  mothers  in  wedlock,  and  thus  to 
suffer  under  this  misfortune. 

As  to  the  relation  of  illegitimacy  to  crime,  there 
are  some  striking  statistics  from  France.  Out  of 
5,758  persons  confined  in  the  bagnios  in  France,  there 
were,  according  to  Dr.  Parry,  in  1853,  391  illegiti- 
mate. Of  the  18,205  inmates  of  the  State  Prisons  in 
France  during  the  same  time,  880  were  illegitimate, 
and  361  foundlings.  "  One  out  of  every  1,300  French- 
men," says  the  same  authority,  "  becomes  the  subject 
of  legal  punishment,  while  one  out  of  158  foundlings 
finds  his  way  to  the  State  Prisons."  In  the  celebrated 
Farm-school  of  Mettrai,  according  to  recent  reports, 
out  of  3,580  young  convicts  since  its  foundation,  534 
were  illegitimate  and  221  foundlings,  or  more  than 
twenty  per  cent. 

There  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt,  then,  that  a 
large  number  of  children  born  out  of  wedlock,  and 
therefore  exposed  to  great  hardship,  temptation,  and 
misery,  are  cast  out  every  year  on  this  community. 
A  very  large  proportion  of  these  unfortunate  little 
ones  die,  or,  with  their  mothers,  are  dragged  down  to 
great  depths  of  wretchedness  and  crime. 

What  can  be  done  for  them?  The  first  impulse  is, 
naturally,  to  gather  them  into  an  Asylum.  But  what 
is  the  experience  of  Asylums  ? 


FOUNDLINGS. 


407 


ASYLUMS. 

The  London  Foundling  Hospital,  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  these  institutions,  was  founded  in  1740. 
During  the  first  twenty  years  of  its  existence,  out  of 
the  14,934  children  received  in  it,  only  4,400  lived  to 
be  apprenticed,  a  mortality  of  more  than  seventy  per 
cent.  The  celebrated  St.  Petersburg  Hospital  for 
Foundlings  contained,  between  the  years  1772  and 
1789,  7,709  children,  of  whom  6,606  died.  Between 
the  years  1783  and  1797,  seventy-six  per  cent.  died. 
We  have  not,  unfortunately,  its  later  statistics.  The 
Foundling  Hospital  of  Paris,  another  well-known 
institution  of  this  class,  was  founded  by  Vincent  de 
Paul  in  1638.  In  the  twenty  years  ending  in  1859, 
out  of  48,525  infants  admitted,  27,119  died  during  the 
first  year,  or  fifty-six  per  cent.  In  1841,  a  change  was 
made  in  the  administration  of  this  Hospital,  of  which 
we  shall  speak  later. 

In  this  city  there  is,  under  the  enlightened  man- 
agement of  the  Commissioners  of  Charities  and  Cor- 
rection, an  Infant  Hospital  on  KandalPs  Island,  where 
large  numbers  of  illegitimate  and  abandoned  children 
are  cared  for.  In  former  years,  under  careless  man- 
agement of  this  institution,  the  mortality  of  these 
helpless  infants  has  reached  ninety  to  ninety-five  per 
cent.;  but  in  recent  years,  under  the  new  manage- 
ment, this  has  been  greatly  reduced.    In  1867,  out  of 


408     THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

the  928  "nurse's  children,"  or  children  without  their 
mothers,  who  were  received,  642  died,  or  about 
seventy  per  cent.  In  1868,  76.77  per  cent,  of  these 
unfortunates  died,  and  in  1869,  70.32  per  cent. ;  while 
in  the  same  hospital,  of  the  children  admitted  with 
their  mothers,  only  20.44  per  cent,  died  during  that 
year — a  death-rate  less  than  that  of  the  city  at  large, 
which  is  about  twenty-six  per  cent. ;  while  in  Massa- 
chusetts, for  children  under  one  year,  it  is  about 
thirteen  per  cent. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  mortality  of  foundlings 
and  orphans  in  this  institution  was  reduced  in  1869 
from  76.79  per  cent,  to  70.32.  Again,  in  1870,  a  still 
greater  reduction  was  made  to  58.99.  This  most 
encouraging  result  was  brought  about  by  the  erection 
of  an  Infants'  Hospital  by  the  Commissioners,  the 
employment  of  a  skillful  physician,  and,  above  all,  by 
engaging  paid  nurses  instead  of  pauper  women,  to 
take  care  of  the  children.  In  Massachusetts  the 
experience  is  equally  instructive.  "In  the  State  Alms- 
house," says  the  able  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Chari- 
ties, Mr.  F.  B.  Sanborn,  "the  mortality  of  these  infants 
previous  to  1857,  reached  the  large  proportion  of  80 
out  of  every  100." 

In  the  Tewksbury  Alms-house  the  mortality  in  1860 
among  the  foundlings  was  forty-seven  out  of  fifty- 
four,  or  eighty-seven  per  cent. 

In  1867,  the  most  enlightened  experts  in  charities  in 


INFANT-ASYLUMS. 


409 


Massachusetts  took  up  the  subject  of  founding  an 
Infant- Asylum,  and  resolved  to  institute  one  which 
should  be  free  from  the  abuses  of  the  old  system.  In 
this  new  Asylum  only  those  children  should  be 
received  whose  cases  had  been  carefully  investigated, 
and  no  more  than  thirty  foundlings  were  ever  to  be 
collected  under  one  roof,  so  that  as  much  individual 
care  might  be  exercised  as  is  practicable.  Yet  even 
under  this  wise  plan  the  mortality  during  the  first  six 
months  at  the  Dorchester  Asylum  reached  nearly 
fifty  per  cent,  out  of  only  thirty-six  children ;  though 
this  mortality  was  a  great  gain  over  that  of  the  State 
Alms-houses. 

The  truth  seems  to  be  that  each  infant  needs  one 
nurse  or  care-taker,  and  that  if  you  place  these 
delicate  young  creatures  in  large  companies  together 
in  any  public  building,  an  immense  proportion  are 
sure  to  die.  When  one  remembers  the  difficulty  of 
carrying  any  child  in  this  climate  through  the  first  and 
second  summers,  and  how  a  slight  change  in  the  milk, 
or  neglect  of  covering,  will  bring  on  that  scourge  of  our 
city,  cholera  infantum,  and  how  incessant  the  watch- 
fulness of  our  mothers  is  to  bring  up  a  healthy  child, 
we  can  understand  why  from  one-half  to  two-thirds 
of  the  foundlings,  many  of  them  fatally  weakened  when 
brought  to  the  Asylums,  die  in  our  public  institutions. 
Where  the  mothers  are  allowed  to  take  care  of  their 

own  children  in  the  Asylums,  as  many  survive  as  in  the 
18 


410    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

outside  world.  But  to  support  one  mother  for  each 
infant  is  an  immense  expense ;  so  that  two  children 
are  commonly  put  under  the  care  of  the  mother.  The 
neglect,  however,  of  the  strange  child  soon  becomes 
apparent  even  to  the  casual  visitor;  and  these  poor 
foundlings  are  often  fairly  starved  or  abused  to  death 
by  the  mother  forced  to  nurse  them.  The  treatment 
of  these  j)oor  helpless  infants  by  brutal  women  in  our 
public  institutions  is  one  of  the  saddest  chapters  in 
the  history  of  human  wickedness. 

What,  then,  is  to  be  done  for  these  unfortunate 
foundlings  ?  No  Asylum  can  afford  to  board  and  em- 
ploy one  wet-nurse  for  each  infant.  How  can  the 
children  be  saved  at  a  moderate  expense  ?  The  feas- 
ible and  practicable  course  for  this  object  is  the 

"PLACmG-OUT  SYSTEM." 

This  plan  has  been  in  operation  in  France  for  cen- 
turies, and  is  now  carried  out  under  a  public  depart- 
ment called  u  Les  services  des  Enfants  Assistes?  recently 
under  the  direction  of  M.  Husson,  and  known  gen- 
erally as  the  Bureau  Ste.  Apolline.  This  bureau  deals 
with  the  whole  class  of  abandoned  and  outcast  and 
destitute  infants.  Instead  of  keeping  these  children 
in  an  Asylum,  this  office  at  once  dispatches  them  to 
nurses  already  selected  in  the  country. 

The  whole  matter  is  thoroughly  organized ;  there 
are  agents  to  forward  the  nurses  and  children,  inspect- 


THE  FRENCH  SYSTEM. 


411 


ors  to  select  nurses  and  look  after  the  infants  and  take 
charge  of  the  disbursements,  and  medical  officers  to 
investigate  the  condition  of  both  children  and  nurses, 
and  to  visit  them  monthly,  and  give  medical  attend- 
ance. The  nurse  is  obliged  to  bring  a  certificate  of 
good  character  from  the  Commune,  and  of  her  being 
in  proper  condition  to  take  care  of  a  foster-child.  She 
is  not  permitted  to  take  charge  of  an  infant  unless  her 
own  is  nine  months  old,  and  has  been  weaned.  The 
nurse  is  bound  to  send  her  foster-child,  as  she  grows 
up,  to  school,  and  to  some  place  of  religious  instruc- 
tion. The  bureau  has  thus  relieved  a  great  number 
of  children  during  ten  years,  from  1855  to  1864,  the 
total  number  amounting  to  21,944. 

That  it  has  been  wonderfully  successful  is  shown 
by  the  mortality,  which  is  now  only  about  thirty  per 
cent.,  or  nearly  the  same  with  the  general  death-rate 
among  young  children  in  New  York.  Under  this 
new  poor-law  administration  for  destitute  and  aban- 
doned children,  the  famous  Hospital  for  Foundlings 
has  been  changed  into  a  mere  depot  for  children 
sent  to  places  and  nurses  in  the  country,  with  the 
most  hax>py  results  in  point  of  mortality.  Thus,  in 
1838,  the  hospital  admitted  5,322  children,  and  lost 
1,211 ;  in  1868,  of  5,603  admitted,  only  442  died,  or 
about  eight  per  cent.  Of  21,147  sent  to  the  country, 
the  deaths  were  only  1,783,  or  less  than  ten  per 
cent.    Of  6,009  admitted  in  1869,  4,260  were  aban- 


412    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OP  NEW  YORK. 

doned  children,  and  the  deaths  from  the  above  number 
were  495. 

The  French  administration  does  not  cease  with 
paying*  the  board  of  these  foundlings  in  their  country 
homes;  it  looks  carefully  after  their  clothing,  their 
education,  their  religious  instruction,  and  even  their 
habits  of  economy.  The  outlay  by  the  Government 
for  these  various  objects  is  considerable.  In  1869,  the 
traveling  expenses  of  these  little  waifs  reached  the 
sum  of  170,107  francs.  The  payments  to  the  peasants 
to  induce  them  to  educate  the  foundlings  amounted  to 
85,458  francs  for  the  same  year j  the  savings  of  the 
children,  put  in  official  savings-boxes,  amounted  to 
394,076  francs,  while  15,936  francs  were  given  out  as 
prizes. 

The  moral  effects  have  been  encouraging.  In  1869, 
out  of  the  9,000  eleves  from  thirteen  to  twenty-eight 
years,  only  thirty -two  had  appeared  before  Courts  of 
Justice  for  trifling  offenses ;  thirty -two  had  shown 
symptoms  of  insubordination,  and  nearly  the  same 
number  had  been  imprisoned. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  this  bureau  has 
charge  of  the  whole  class  of  juvenile  paupers,  or  Alms- 
house children,  in  Paris,  as  well  as  foundlings,  whom 
it  treats  by  placing  out  in  country  homes.  In  1869, 
it  thus  provided  for  and  protected  25,486  children,  of 
whom  16,845  were  from  one  day  to  twelve  years,  and 
9,001  from  twelve  to  twenty-one  years.    For  this  pur- 


"  PLACING-OUT." 


413 


pose,  it  employed  two  principal  inspectors,  twenty- 
five  sub-inspectors,  and  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
eight  physicians. 

The  expense  of  this  bureau  has  been  wonderfully 
slight,  only  averaging  two  dollars  and  sixty  cents  per 
annum  for  each  child.  In  an  Asylum  the  average 
annual  expenditure  for  each  child  could  not  have  been 
less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  This  Bureau 
Ste.  Apolline  must  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the 
private  bureaus  in  Paris  for  assisting  foundlings, 
under  which  the  most  shocking  abuses  have  occurred, 
the  death-rate  reaching  among  their  subjects  70.87, 
and  even  ninety  per  cent. 

The  "  boarding-out 19  system  has  been  a  part  of  the 
Alms-house  system  of  Hamburg  for  years,  and  has 
proved  eminently  successful  and  economical.  In  Ber- 
lin, more  than  half  the  pauper  children,  and  all  the 
foundlings,  are  thus  dealt  with.  In  Dublin,  both 
Protestant  and  Catholic  associations  have  pursued 
this  plan  with  destitute  orphans  and  foundlings,  with 
marked  success.  The  Protestant  Society  had,  in  1866, 
453  orphans  under  its  charge,  and  had  placed  out,  or 
returned  to  friends,  1,256 ;  its  provincial  branches  had 
2,208  under  their  care,  and  had  placed  out  5,374.  All 
the  orphans  placed  out  by  the  Society  are  apprenticed. 
Great  care  is  used  in  inspecting  the  homes  in  which 
children  are  put,  and  in  selecting  employers.  The 
whole  Association  is  well  organized.    The  annual  cost 


414    THE  DANGKEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

of  the  children,  dividing  the  whole  expense  by  the 
number  of  children  placed  and  cared  for,  is  only  from 
fifty  dollars  to  fifty-five  dollars  per  head.  The  Eoman 
Catholic  Association,  St.  Brigid's,  is  even  more  eco- 
nomical in  its  work,  as  the  labor  is  mainly  performed 
by  the  members  of  the  sisterhoods.  Within  seven 
years  five  hundred  children  were  taken  in  charge,  of 
whom  two  hundred  had  been  adopted  or  placed  out. 
The  children  thus  provided  for  in  country  families  are 
constantly  visited  by  the  conductors  of  the  orphanage 
and  by  the  parish  priest.  The  expense  of  the  whole 
enterprise  is  very  slight. 

Similar  experiments  are  being  made  in  England 
with  pauper  children,  and,  despite  Prof.  Faweett's 
somewhat  impractical  objections,  they  have  been 
found  to  be  successful  and  far  more  economical  than 
the  old  system. 

THE  FAMILY  PLAIT. 

The  Massachusetts  Board  of  State  Charities,  one 
of  the  ablest  Boards  that  have  ever  treated  these  ques- 
tions, well  observes  in  its  report  for  1868  :  "  The  tend- 
ency in  all  civilized  countries  is  toward  the  family  sys- 
tem, through  (1st)  the  Foundling  Hospital  and  (2d) 
the  Asylum  or  Home  System;  and  the  mortality 
among  infants  of  this  class  is  reduced  from  ninety  or 
ninety-five  per  cent,  under  the  old  no-system,  from 
forty  to  sixty  per  cent,  in  well-managed  Foundling 


"  PLACING-OUT." 


415 


Hospitals,  from  thirty  to  fifty  per  cent,  in  good  Asy- 
lums, and  from  twenty  to  thirty-five  per  cent,  in  good 
single  families,  the  last  being  scarcely  above  the  nor- 
mal death-rate  of  all  infants." 

The  u  placing-out v  system,  is  of  course,  liable  to 
shocking  abuse,  as  the  experience  of  private  offices  for 
the  care  of  foundlings  in  Paris,  and  recently  in  Lon- 
don, painfully  shows.  It  must  be  carried  on  with  the 
utmost  publicity,  and  under  careful  responsibility. 
But  under  a  respectable  and  faithful  board  of  trustees, 
with  careful  organization  and  inspection,  there  is  no 
reason  why  the  one  thousand  illegitimate  children 
born  every  year  in  New  York  city  should  not  be 
placed  in  good  country  families,  under  the  best  of  care 
and  with  the  prospect  of  saving,  at  least,  seven  hun- 
dred out  of  the  thousand,  instead  of  losing  that  pro- 
portion ;  and  all  this  under  an  expense  of  about  one- 
tenth  that  of  an  Asylum.  Why  will  our  benevolent 
ladies  and  gentlemen  keep  up  the  old  monastic  ideas 
of  the  necessity  of  herding  these  unfortunate  children 
in  one  building  ?  Here  there  are  thousands  of  homes 
awaiting  the  foundlings,  without  money  and  without 
price,  where  the  child  would  have  the  best  advantages 
the  country  could  afford ;  or  if  it  be  too  weak  or  sick 
to  be  moved,  or  the  managers  fear  the  experiment  of 
placing-out,  let  some  responsible  nurse  be  selected  in 
the  country  near  by,  and  the  foundling  boarded  at 
their  expense.    The  experience  of  the  Children's  Aid 


416    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Society  is,  that  no  children  are  so  eagerly  and  kindly 
received  in  country  families  as  infants  who  are  or- 
phans. Let  us  not  found  in  New  York  that  most 
doubtful  institution — a  Foundling  Asylum — but  use 
the  advantages  we  have  in  the  ten  thousand  natural 
asylums  of  the  country. 

In  regard  to  the  question,  how  far  the  affording 
facilities  for  the  care  of  illegitimate  children  increases 
the  temptation  to  vicious  indulgence,  we  believe,  as  in 
most  similar  matters,  the  true  course  for  the  legislator 
lies  between  extremes.  His  first  duty  is,  of  course, 
one  of  humanity,  to  preserve  life.  Whenever  helpless 
or  abandoned  children  are  found,  the  duty  of  the  State 
is  to  take  care  of  them,  though  this  care  may,  in  cer- 
tain cases,  offer  an  inducement  to  crime.  The  danger 
to  the  child,  if  neglected,  is  certain ;  that  to  the  com- 
munity, of  inducing  other  mothers  to  abandon  their 
offspring,  is  remote  and  uncertain.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  State  is  under  no  obligation  to  offer  induce- 
ments to  parents  to  neglect  their  illegitimate  children ; 
it  is  rather  bound  to  throw  all  possible  responsibility 
on  those  who  have  brought  them  into  the  world. 

The  extreme  French  plan  of  presenting  u  turning- 
tables  "  to  those  who  wished  to  abandon  their  chil- 
dren, was  found  to  increase  the  crime,  and  the  number 
of  such  unfortunates.  It  has  been  given  up  even  in 
Paris  itself.  The  Eussian  Foundling  Asylum  in  St. 
Petersburg  found  it  necessary  to  make  its  conditions 


THE  MIDDLE  COURSE  BEST.  (  417 

more  strict  than  they  were  in  the  beginning,  as  lax- 
ness  tended  to  encourage  sexual  vice.  The  universal 
experience  is,  that  if  a  mother  can  be  compelled  to 
care  for  her  infant,  during  a  month  or  two,  she  will 
then  never  murder  or  abandon  it.  But,  if  she  is  re- 
lieved of  the  charge  very  early,  she  feels  little  affec- 
tion or  remorse,  and  often  plunges  into  indulgence 
again  without  restraint.  By  requiring  conditions  and 
letting  some  little  time  pass  before  the  mother  gives 
the  child  up,  she  is  kept  in  a  better  moral  condition, 
and  made  to  feel  more  the  responsibility  of  her  posi- 
tion, and  is  thus  withheld  from  future  vice. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  extreme  position  taken 
substantially  by  the  New  York  legislators,  whereby 
no  mother  could  get  rid  of  an  illegitimate  child,  ex- 
cept by  publicly  entering  the  Alms-house,  or  by 
infanticide,  undoubtedly  stimulated  the  crimes  of 
foeticide  and  child-murder.  No  doubt  the  new  Catho- 
lic and  Protestant  Foundling  Asylums  contemplated 
in  New  York  will  steer  between  these  two  extremes, 
will  connect  the  mother  with  the  child  as  long  as  pos- 
sible, and  require  all  reasonable  conditions  before 
admitting  the  infant,  and,  at  the  same  time,  not  drive 
a  seduced  or  unfortunate  woman  with  her  babe  out  to 
take  her  chances  in  the  streets. 


CHAPTEB  XXXV. 


RELIGIOUS  INSTRUCTION  FOR  STREET-CHILDREN. 

The  subject  of  applying  Eeligion  as  a  lever  to 
raise  up  the  class  of  neglected  children  whom  we 
have  been  describing,  is  a  difficult  one,  but  vital  to 
the  Science  of  Eeform.  The  objects  of  those  engaged 
in  laboring  for  this  class  are  to  raise  them  above 
temptation,  to  make  them  of  more  value  to  them- 
selves, and  to  Society,  and,  if  possible,  to  elevate  them 
to  the  highest  range  of  life,  where  the  whole  character 
is  governed  by  Eeligion. 

The  children  themselves  are  in  a  peculiar  position. 
They  have  many  of  the  traits  of  children,  and  yet  are 
struggling  in  an  independent  and  hard  life,  like  men. 
They  are  not  to  be  influenced  as  a  Sunday-school 
audience  would  be,  nor  as  an  audience  of  adults. 
Their  minds  are  acute,  sharp,  and  practical;  mere 
sentiment  and  the  amiable  platitudes  of  Sunday- 
school  oratory  are  not  for  them.  Ehetoric  sets  them 
asleep.  Bombast 'goes  by  the  name  of  u  gas  n  among 
them.  Sentimental  and  affectionate  appeals  only 
excite  their  contempt.  The  "hard  fact"  pleases  them. 
They  know  when  the  speaker  stands  on  good  bottom. 


OPENNESS  TO  RELIGION. 


419 


If  he  has  reached  u  hard  pan,"  his  audience  is  always 
with  him. 

No  audience  is  so  quick  to  respond  to  a  sudden 
turn  or  a  joke.  Their  faculties  are  far  more  awake 
than  those  of  a  company  of  children  of  the  fortunate 
classes.  And  yet  they  are  like  children  in  many 
respects.  Nothing  interests  them  so  much  as  the 
dramatic:  the  truth  given  by  parable  and  illustration. 
Their  education  in  the  low  theatres  has  probably 
cultivated  this  taste.  The  genuine  and  strong  feeling 
of  the  heart  always  touches  them.  I  have  seen  the 
quick  tears  drop  over  the  dirty  cheeks  at  the  simple 
tone  only  of  some  warm-hearted  man  who  had  ad- 
dressed them  with  a  deep  feeling  of  their  loneliness 
and  desolation.  And  yet  they  would  have  " chaffed" 
him  in  five  minutes  after,  if  they  had  had  the  oppor- 
tunity. They  seem  to  have  children's  receptivity ; 
they  are  not  by  nature  skeptical.  They  unconsciously 
believe  in  supernatural  powers,  or  in  one  eternal 
Power.  Their  conscience  can  be  reached  5  the  imagi- 
nation is,  to  a  certain  degree,  lively ;  they  are  pecu- 
liarly open  to  Eeligion.  And  yet  their  " moral" 
position  is  a  most  perplexing  one.  The  speaker  in 
one  of  our  Boys7  Lodging-houses,  who  addresses  them, 
knows  that  this  may  be  the  last  and  only  time,  for 
years,  that  many  of  the  wild  audience  will  listen  to 
religious  truth.  To-morrow  a  considerable  portion 
will  be  scattered,  no  one  knows  where.  To-morrow, 


420    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

perhaps  to-nigh  t,  temptation  will  come  in  like  a  flood. 
In  a  few  hours,  it  may  be,  the  street-boy  will  stand 
where  he  must  decide  whether  he  will  be  a  thief  or 
an  honest  lad ;  a  rogue  or  an  industrious  worker ;  the 
companion  of  burglars  and  murderers,  or  the  friend  of 
the  virtuous.  Temptations  to  lying,  to  deceit,  to  theft, 
robbery,  lust,  and  murder  will  soon  hunt  him  like  a 
pack  of  wolves.  His  child's  nature  is  each  day  under 
the  strain  of  a  man's  temptations.  Poverty,  hunger, 
andfriendlessnessadd  to  his  exposed  condition,  while, 
in  all  probability,  he  inherits  a  tendency  te  indulgence 
or  crime. 

The  problem  is  to  guard  such  a  human  being,  so 
exposed,  against  powerful  temptations ;  to  raise  him 
above  them  5  to  melt  his  bad  habits  and  inherited 
faults  in  some  new  and  grand  emotion;  to  create 
within  him  a  force  which  is  stronger  than,  and  utterly 
opposed  to,  the  selfish  greed  for  money,  or  the  attrac- 
tions of  criminal  indulgence,  or  the  rush  of  passion, 
or  the  fire  of  anger.  The  object  is  to  implant  in  his 
breast  such  a  power  as  Plato  dreamed  of — the  Love 
of  some  perfect  Friend,  whose  character  by  sympathy 
shall  purify  his,  whose  feeling  is  believed  to  go  with 
the  fortunes  of  the  one  forgotten  by  all  others,  and 
who  has  the  power  of  cleansing  from  wrong  and  sav- 
ing from  sin. 

The  experience  of  twenty  years'  labor  shows  us 
that  what  are  called  u  moral  influences"  are  not 


"bread-and-butter  piety."  421 

sufficient  to  solve  this  problem,  or  meet  this  want 
among  the  children  of  the  street.  It  is,  of  course,  well 
at  times  to  present  the  beauty  of  virtue  and  the  ugli- 
ness of  vice ;  to  show  that  honesty  brings  rewards, 
and  falsehood  pains,  and  to  sketch  the  course  of 
the  moral  poor  whom  fortune  has  rewarded.  But 
these  considerations  are  not  sufficiently  strong  to 
hold  back  the  most  pressing  temptations.  Moreover, 
we  have  often  had  grave  doubts  whether  "  the  bread- 
and-butter  piety  "  was  not  too  much  recommended  in 
all  religious  meetings  to  children.  The  child  is  too 
continually  reminded  that  righteousness  brings  re- 
ward in  this  world,  though  the  Master  calls  us  to 
"take  a  yoke,"  and  " bear  a  cross."  The  essence  of 
the  religious  impulse  is  that  it  is  unselfish,  an  inspira- 
tion from  above,  not  below,  a  quickening  of  the  nobler 
emotions  and  higher  aspirations.  Wherever  gain  or 
worldly  motive  comes  in,  there  spirituality  flees  away. 
We  have,  accordingly,  always  opposed,  in  our  religious 
meetings,  the  employment  of  prizes  or  rewards,  as  is 
so  common  in  Sunday  Schools,  to  strengthen  the 
religious  influence.  Experience,  as  well  as  reason, 
has  shown  us  that  all  such  motives  mingled  with 
religion  simply  weaken  its  power. 

Considering  the  peculiar  position  of  these  children, 
we  have  never  set  the  value  on  what  is  usually 
described  as  u  Eeligious  Instruction"  which  many  do. 
Of  course,  there  are  certain  foundation  truths  which 


422    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


should  be  taught  to  these  audiences.  But  such  sub- 
jects as  the  Jewish  History  and  God's  Providence 
therein,  and  many  matters  contained  in  the  Old 
Testament,  are  not  so  immediately  important  for  them 
as  the  facts  and  principles  of  Christianity.  And  yet 
there  are  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  which  seem 
peculiarly  designed  for  the  young.  There  are  stories 
— such  as  those  of  Joseph  and  Moses  and  Samuel — 
which,  if  all  others  should  forget,  children  alone 
would  not  let  die.  It  does  not  seem  instruction 
that  these  children  need,  so  much  as  inspiration. 
A  street-boy  might  be  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
history  of  the  Fall  of  Man  and  the  Flood ;  he  might 
repeat  the  Commandments,  and  know  by  heart  the 
Apostles'  Creed,  and  yet  not  have  one  spark  in  his 
breast  of  the  divine  fire  which  is  to  save  him  from 
vice  and  ruin. 

What  the  child  of  the  streets,  above  all,  needs  to 
uphold  him  in  his  sea  of  troubles  and  temptations,  is 
the  knowledge  and  faith  in  Christ  as  his  Friend  and 
Saviour. 

Christ  can  be  presented  and  made  real  to  these 
children  as  a  perfect  Being,  the  Son  of  God,  who 
feels  with  all  their  misfortunes,  who  has  known  their 
temptations,  who  is  their  Friend,  and  only  demands 
noble  hearts  and  love  from  them,  who  lived  and  died 
for  them  when  on  earth,  that  they  might  love  God 
and  be  saved  from  sin. 


THE  OLD  FAITH.  423 


It  is  the  old  Faith,  which  has  thrown  the  glory 
of  Heaven  over  millions  of  death-beds,  and  sus- 
tained uncounted  numbers  of  weak  and  hard-pressed 
men,  true  to  honor,  virtue,  and  goodness,  amid  all 
temptations  and  misfortunes.  It  has  comforted  and 
ennobled  the  slave  under  his  master's  tyranny.  If 
simply  presented,  and  with  faith  in  God,  it  can  .  re- 
deem the  outcast  youth  of  the  streets  from  all  his 
vices  and  evil  habits,  keep  him  pure  amid  filth, 
honest  among  thieves,  generous  among  those  greedy 
for  money,  kind  among  the  hard  and  selfish,  and 
enable  him  to  overcome  anger,  lust,  the  habit  of  lying 
or  profanity,  and  to  live  a  simple,  humble,  God-fear- 
ing, and  loving  life,  merely  because  he  believes  that 
this  Unseen  Friend  demands  all  this  in  his  children 
and  followers.  When  this  Faith  and  this  Love  are 
implanted  in  the  child's  mind,  and  he  is  inspired  by 
them,  then  his  course  is  clear,  and  sure  to  be  happy 
and  good. 

One  mistake  of  Sunday-school  oratory  is  fre- 
quently made  in  addressing  these  lads,  and  that  is,  a 
too  great  use  of  sensational  illustrations,  which  do  not 
aid  to  impress  the  truth  desired.  Attention  will  be 
secured,  but  no  good  end  is  gained.  Where  the  wants 
of  the  audience  are  so  real  and  terrible  as  they  are 
here,  and  so  little  time  is  given  for  influencing  them, 
it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  every  word  should 
tell.    There  should  be  no  rhetorical  pyrotechnics  at 


424    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

these  meetings.  Above  all  modes,  however,  the  dra- 
matic is  the  best  means  of  conveying  truth  to  their 
minds.  The  parable,  the  illustration,  the  allegory 
or  story,  real  or  fictitious,  most  quickly  strike  their 
mind,  and  leave  the  most  permanent  impression. 

One  of  the  best  religious  speakers  tlat  ever  address 
our  boys  is  a  lawyer,  who  has  been  a  famous  sports- 
man, and  has  in  his  constitution  a  fellow-feeling  for 
their  vagrant  tastes.  I  often  fancy,  when  he  is  speak- 
ing to  them,  that  he  would  not  object  at  all  to  being 
a  boy  again  himself,  roving  the  streets,  "  turning  in" 
on  a  hay-barge,  and  drifting  over  the  country  at  u  his 
own  sweet  will."  But  this  very  sympathy  gives  him 
a  peculiar  power  over  them;  he  understands  their 
habits  and  temptations,  and,  while  other  gentlemen 
often  shoot  over  their  heads,  his  words  always  take  a 
powerful  hold  of  them.  Then,  though  a  man  particu- 
larly averse  to  sentiment  in  ordinary  life,  his  speeches 
to  the  boys  seem  to  reveal  a  deep  and  poetic  feeling 
for  nature,  and  a  solemn  consciousness  of  God,  which 
impresses  children  deeply.  His  sportsmanly  habits 
have  led  him  to  closely  observe  the  habits  of  birds 
and  animals,  and  the  appearances  of  the  sky  and 
sea,  and  these  come  in  as  natural  illustrations,  pos- 
sessing a  remarkable  interest  for  these  wild  little 
vagrants,  who  by  nature  belong  to  the  " sporting" 
class. 

A  man  must  have  a  boy's  tastes  to  reach  boys. 


A  QUESTION. 


425 


BIBLE  IN  SCHOOLS. 

In  treating  of  this  subject  of  religious  education 
for  the  youth  of  the  dangerous  classes,  the  question 
naturally  arises,  how  far  there  should  be  religious 
expression  or  education  in  our  Public  Schools.  If 
it  were  a  tabula  rasa  here,  and  we  were  opening  a 
system  of  National  Schools,  and  all  were  of  one 
general  faith,  there  could  be  no  question  that  every 
one  interested  in  the  general  welfare  would  desire 
religious  instruction  in  our  Public  Schools,  as  a 
means  of  strengthening  morality,  if  for  no  other 
purpose.  As  it  is,  however,  we  have  at  the  basis 
of  society  an  immense  mass  of  very  ignorant,  and, 
therefore,  bigoted  people,  who  suspect  and  hate 
every  expression  even  of  our  form  of  Christianity, 
and  regard  it  as  a  teaching  of  heresy  and  a  shib- 
boleth of '  oppression.  Their  shrewd  and  cunning 
leaders,  knowing  the  danger  to  priestcraft  from 
Free  Schools,  use  this  hostility  and  the  pretense  of 
'our  religious  services  to  separate  these  classes  from 
the  Public  Schools.  The  priests  and  demagogues 
do  not,  of  course,  care  anything  about  the  simple 
prayer  and  the  reading  of  a  few  verses  of  Scrip- 
ture, which  are  now  our  sole  religious  school  exer- 
cises. But  these  furnish  them  with  a  good  pretext  r 
for  acting  on  the  masses,  and  give  them  ground, 
among  certain  liberal  or  indifferent  Protestants,  for 


426    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

seeking  a  separate  State  support  for  the  Catholic 
Schools.  * 

Were  Bible-reading  and  the  Lord's  Prayer  discon- 
tinued in  the  Schools,  we  do  not  doubt  that  the 
priests  and  the  popular  leaders  would  still  oppose  the 
Free  Schools  just  as  bitterly;  but  they  would  not  have 
as  good  an  apparent  ground,  and  any  pretext  of  oppo- 
sition would  be  taken  away.  The  system  of  Free 
Schools  is  the  life-blood  of  the  nation.  If  it  be  cor- 
rupted with  priestcraft,  or  destroyed  by  our  dissen- 
sions, our  vitality  as  a  republican  people  is  gone. 
The  whole  country  would  realize  then  the  worst  fruits 
of  a  popular  government  without  intelligence.  De- 
magogism  and  corruption,  founded  on  ignorance, 
would  wield  an  absolute  tyranny,  with  none  of  the 
graces  of  monarchy,  and  none  of  the  advantages 
of  democracy.  Jarring  sects  would  each  have  their 
own  schools,  and  the  priests  would  enjoy  an  un- 
limited control  over  all  the  ignorant  Catholics  of  the 
country. 

Under  no  circumstance  should  the  Protestants  of 
the  nation  allow  the  Free  Schools  to  be  broken  up. 
They  are  the  foundation  of  the  Republic,  and  the  bul- 
wark of  Protestantism  and  civilization.  They  under- 
mine the  power  of  the  priests,  which  rests  on  igno- 
rance, while  they  leave  untouched  whatever  spiritual 
force  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  may  truly  have  and 
deserve  to  have.     The  Protestants  should  sacrifice 


BIBLE  IN  SCHOOL. 


427 


everything  reasonable  and  not  vital,  to  retain  these 
blessed  agencies  of  enlightenment. 

We  respect  the  sort  of  pluck  of  the  Protestants, 
which  looks  upon  the  giving-up  of  Bible-reading  in 
the  Schools  as  being  u  false  to  the  flag."  But,  in  look- 
ing at  the  matter  soberly,  and  without  pugnacity, 
does  spiritual  religion  lose  anything  by  giving  up 
these  exercises  ?  We  think  not.  They  arc  now  of 
the  coldest  and  most  formal  kind,  and  but  little 
listened  to.  We  doubt  if  they  ever  affect  strongly  a 
single  mind.  The  religious  education  of  each  child  is 
imparted  in  Sabbath  Schools,  in  Churches,  or  Mission 
Schools,  and  its  own  home. 

The  Free  School  under  our  system  does  not  need 
any  influence  from  the  Church.  The  American  trusts 
to  the  separate  sects  to  take  care  of  the  religious 
interests  of  the  children.  We  separate  utterly  Church 
and  State.  There  may  be  evils  from  this  ;  but  they 
are  less  than  the  danger  of  destroying  our  system  of 
popular  education  by  the  contests  of  rival  sects.  We 
know  how  long  every  effort  to  secure  popular  educa- 
tion for  England  has  been  wrecked  on  this  rock  of 
Sectarianism. 

We  behold  the  fearful  harvest  of  evils  which  she 
is  reaping  from  the  ignorance  of  the  masses,  especially 
induced  by  the  oppositions  of  sects,  who  preferred  no 
education  for  the  people  to  education  without  their 
own  dogmas. 


428    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

We  desire  to  avoid  these  calamities,  and  we  can 
best  do  this  by  making  every  reasonable  concession 
to  ignorance  and  prejudice. 

Give  ns  the  Free  Schools  without  Religion,  rather 
than  no  Free  Schools  at  all ! 


CHAPTEE  XXXYI. 


DECREASE  OF  JUVENILE  CRIME  IN  NEW  YORK. 
THE  COST  OF  PUNISHMENT  AND  PREVENTION. 

Very  few  people  have  any  just  appreciation  of  the 
comparative  cost  of  punishment  and  prevention  in  the 
treatment  of  crime.  The  writer  recalls  one  out  of 
many  thousand  instances  in  his  experience,  which 
strikingly  illustrates  the  contrast. 

THE  BROTHERS. 

A  number  of  years  ago,  three  boys  (brothers),  the 
oldest  perhaps  seventeen,  applied  at  the  Newsboys' 
Lodging-house  of  this  city  for  shelter.  It  was  soon 
suspected  that  the  eldest  was  a  thief,  employing  the 
younger  as  assistants  in  his  nefarious  business.  The 
younger  lads  finally  confessed  the  fact,  and  the  older . 
brother  left  them  to  be  taken  care  of  in  the  Lodging- 
house.  After  a  sufficient  period  of  training,  the  two 
brothers  were  sent  to  a  farmer  in  Illinois.  They  were 
faithful  and  hard-working,  and  soon  began  to  earn 
money.  When  the  war  broke  out  they  enlisted,  and 
served  with  credit.   At  the  close  they  passed  through 


430    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

New  York,  and  visited  the  superintendent  while  re- 
turning to  their  village,  having  already  purchased  a 
farm  with  their  wages  and  bounty-money.  They  are 
now  well-to-do,  respectable  farmers. 

This  "  prevention  n  for  the  two  lads  cost  just  thirty 
dollars,  for  their  expenses  in  the  Lodging-house  were 
mainly  paid  by  themselves. 

The  older  brother  went  through  a  career  of  thiev- 
ing and  burglary.  We  have  not  an  accurate  catalogue 
of  his  various  offenses,  but  he  undoubtedly  made  away 
with  property — wasted  or  destroyed  it — to  the  amount 
of  two  thousand  dollars.  [We  recall  three  lads  who, 
in  one  night,  broke  into  a  house  in  Bond  Street,  and 
destroyed  or  made  away  with  property  to  the  value 
of  one  thousand  three  hundred  dollars.]  He  was 
finally  arrested  and  tried  for  burglary.  It  would  be 
safe  to  estimate  the  expenses  of  the  trial  and  arrest 
at  one  hundred  dollars.  He  was  sentenced  to  five 
years  in  Sing  Sing.  Allowing  the  expenses  of  main- 
tenance there  to  be  what  they  are  on  BlackwelPs 
Island,  that  is,  about  twelve  dollars  and  fifty  cents 
per  month,  he  cost  the  State  while  there  some  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  not  reckoning  the  inter- 
est on  capital  and  buildings ;  so  that  we  have  here, 
in  one  instance,  the  very  low  estimate  of  two  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and* fifty  dollars  as  the  expense 
to  the  community  of  one  street-boy  unreclaimed. 
Had  the  Lodging-house  taken  hold  of  him  five  years 


COST  OF  CRIME. 


431 


earlier,  lie  could  have  been  saved  at  cost  of  fifteen 
dollars. 

His  brothers  have  added  to  the  wealth  of  the 
community  and  defended  the  life  of  the  nation,  and 
are  still  honest  producers.  He  has  already  cost  the 
State  at  least  two  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars,  besides  much  immorality  and  bad  example, 
and  he  has  only  begun  a  career  of  damage  and  loss  to 
the  city. 

PREVENTION  AND  PUNISHMENT  COMPARED. 

Our  criminals  last  year  cost  this  city,  in  the  City 
Prisons  and  Penitentiaries,  about  one  hundred  and 
one  thousand  dollars  for  maintenance  alone.  Our 
police  cost  apparently  over  six  hundred  thousand 
dollars. 

The  amount  of  property  lost  or  taken  by  thieves, 
burglars,  and  others  last  year,  in  New  York  city,  and 
which  came  under  the  knowledge  of  the  police,  was 
one  million  five  hundred  and  twenty-one  thousand 
nine  hundred  and  forty  dollars ;  but  how  many  sums 
are  never  brought  to  their  notice ! 

The  expenses  of  the  arrest  and  trial  of  two  crimi- 
nals,  Eeal  and  Van  Echten,  are  stated,  on  good  au- 
thority, to  have  been  sixteen  thousand  dollars  for  the 
first,  and  twenty  thousand  dollars  for  the  second. 

If  the  expenses  of  a  great  "  preventive w  institu- 
tion— such  as  the  Children's  Aid  Society — be  ex- 


432    THE  DANGEROUS  GLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

amined,  it  will  £e  found  that  the  two  thousand  and 
odd  homeless  children,  boys  and  girls,  placed  in  coun- 
try homes,  cost  the  public  only  some  fifteen  dollars  a 
head  ;  the  three  thousand  and  odd  destitute  little  girls 
educated  and  partly  fed  and  clothed  in  the  "  Indus- 
trial Schools/'  only  cost  some  fifteen  dollars  for  each 
child  each  year;  and  the  street  lads  and  girls  sheltered 
and  instructed  in  the  "  Lodging-houses,"  to  the  num- 
ber of  some  twelve  thousand  different  subjects,  or  an 
average  of,  say,  four  hundred  each  night,  have  been 
an  expense  of  only  some  fifty  dollars  per  head  through 
the  year  to  the  public. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  urged  in  reply  to  this  by  the 
doubting,  that  all  this  may  be  true.  u  We  admit  the 
cheapness  of  prevention,  but  we  do  not  see  the  dimi- 
nution of  crime.  If  you  can  show  us  that  fewer 
young  thieves,  or  vagabonds,  or  prostitutes,  are  breed- 
ing, we  shall  admit  that  your  children's  charities  are 
doing  something,  and  that  the  cost  of  prevention  is 
the  most  paying  outlay  in  the  administration  of  New 
York  city." 

To  this  we  might  answer  that  New  York  is  an  * 
exceptional  city — a  sink  into  which  pour  the  crime 
and  poverty  of  all  countries,  and  that  all  we  could 
expect  to  accomplish  would  be  what  is  attempted  in 
European  cities — to  keep  the  increase  of  juvenile 
crime  down  equal  with  the  increase  of  population; 
that  the  laws  of  crime  are  shown  in  European  cities 


EFFECTS  OF  THIS  PREVENTION. 


433 


to  be  constant,  and  that  we  must  expect  just  about 
so  many  petty  thieves  each  year,  so  many  pick- 
pockets, so  many  burglars,  so  many  female  vagrants 
or  prostitutes,  to  so  many  thousand  inhabitants. 

We  might  urge  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  friend 
of  humanity  to  do  his  little  part  to  alleviate  the  evils 
of  the  world,  whether  he  sees  a  general  diminution 
of  human  ills  or  not. 

But,  fortunately,  we  are  not  obliged  to  render 
these  excuses. 

New  York  is  the  only  large  city  in  the  world 
where  there  has  been  a  comprehensive  organization 
to  deal  with  the  sources  of  crime  among  children ;  an 
organization  which,  though  not  reaching  the  whole  of 
the  destitute  and  homeless  youth,  and  those  most 
exposed  to  temptation,  still  includes  a  vast  multitude 
every  year  of  the  enfants  perdus  of  this  metropolis. 

This  Association,  during  nearly  twenty  years, 
has  removed  to  country  homes  and  employment 
about  twenty-five  thousand  x^ersons,  the  greater  part 
of  whom  have  been  poor  and  homeless  children  ; 
it  has  founded,  and  still  supports,  five  Lodging- 
houses  for  homeless  and  street-wandering  boys  and 
girls,  five  free  Reading-rooms  for  boys  and  young 
men,  and  twenty  Industrial  Schools  for  children 
too  poor,  ragged,  and  undisciplined  for  the  Public 
Schools.    We  have  always  been  confident  that  time 

would  show,  even  in  the  statistics  of  crime  in  our 
19 


434    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

prisons  and  police  courts,  the  fruits  of  these  very 
extended  and  earnest  labors.  It  required  several 
years  to  properly  found  and  organize  the  Children's 
Aid  Society,  and  then  it  must  be  some  ten  years — 
when  the  children  acted  upon  in  all  its  various 
branches  have  come  to  young  manhood  and  woman- 
hood— before  the  true  effects  are  to  be  seen.  We 
would  not,  however,  exclude,  as  causes  of  whatever 
results  maybe  traced,  all  similar  movements  in  be- 
half of  the  youthful  criminal  classes.  We  may  then 
fairly  look,  in  the  present  and  the  past  few  years,  for 
the  effects  on  crime  and  pauperism  of  these  widely- 
extended  charities  in  behalf  of  children. 

CRIME  CHECKED. 

The  most  important  field  of  the  Children's  Aid 
Society  has  been  among  the  destitute  and  street- 
wandering  and  tempted  little  girls,  its  labors  em- 
bracing many  thousands  annually  of  this  unfortunate 
class.  Has  crime  increased  with  them  ?  The  great 
offense  of  this  class,  either  as  children  or  as  young 
women,  comes  under  the  heading  of  u  Vagrancy ?? — 
this  including  their  arrest  and  punishment,  either  as 
street-walkers,  or  prostitutes,  or  homeless  persons. 
In  this  there  is,  during  the  past  thirteen  years,  a  most 
remarkable  decrease — a  diminution  of  crime  probably 
unexampled  in  any  criminal  records  through  the 
world.    The  rate  in  the  commitments  to  the  city 


DECREASE  OF  CRIME. 


435 


prisons,  as  appears  in  the  reports  of  the  Board  of 
Charities  and  Correction,  rans  thus  : — 
Of  female  vagrants,  there  were  in 


1857  3,449 

1859  5,778 

1860  5,880 

1871  


1861  3,172 

1862  2,243 

1863  1,756 


1864  1,342 

1869   785 

1870   671 

  548. 


We  have  omitted  some  of  the  years  on  account  of 
want  of  space;  they  do  not,  however,  change  the 
steady  rate  of  decrease  in  this  offense. 

Thus,  in  eleven  years,  the  imprisonments  of 
female  vagrants  have  fallen  off  from  5,880  to  548. 
This,  surely,  is*  a  good  show  ;  and  yet  in  that  pe- 
riod our  population  increased  about  thirteen  and 
a  half  per  cent.,  so  that,  according  to  the  usual 
law,  the  commitments  should  have  been  this  year 
over  4,700.* 

If  we  turn  now  to  the  reports  of  the  Commission- 
ers of  Police,  the  returns  are  almost  equally  encourag- 
ing, though  the  classification  of  arrests  does  not 
exactly  correspond  with  that  of  imprisonments ;  that 

*  The  population  of  New  York  increased  from  814,224,  in 
1860,  to  915,520,  in  1870,  or  only  about  twelve  and  a  half  per  cent. 

The  increase  in  the  previous  decade  was  about  fifty  per  cent. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  falling-ofif  is  entirely  in  the 
middle  classes,  who  have  removed  to  the  neighboring  rural  dis- 
tricts. The  classes  from  which  most  of  the  criminals  come  have 
undoubtedly  increased,  as  before,  at  least  fifty  per  cent. 

I  have  retained  for  ten  years,  however,  the  ratio  of  the  census, 
twelve  and  a  half  per  cent. 


436    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 


is,  a  person  may  be  arrested  for  vagrancy,  and  sen- 
tenced for  some  other  offense,  and  vice  versa. 

The  reports  of  arrests  of  female  vagrants  run 
thus : — 

1861   2,161    1867  1,591 

1862   2,008    1869   ...1,078 

1863   1,728    1870    701 

1871   914 

We  have  not,  unfortunately,  statistics  of  arrests 
farther  back  than  1861. 

Another  crime  of  young  girls  is  thieving  or  petty 
larceny.  The  rate  of  commitments  runs  thus  for 
females : — 

1859    944   1864  1,131 

1860    890    1865   877 

1861    880    1869   989 

1863   1,133    1870    746 

1871  572 

The  increase  of  this  crime  during  the  war,  in  the 
years  1863  and  1864,  is  very  marked ;  but  in  twelve 
years  it  has  fallen  from  944  to  572,  though,  according 
to  the  increase  of  the  population,  it  would  have  been 
naturally  1,076. 

Another  heading  on  the  prison  records  is  u  Juve- 
nile delinquency,"  which  may  include  any  form  of 
youthful  offense  not  embraced  in  the  other  terms. 
Under  this,  in  1860,  were  two  hundred  and  forty 
(240)  females ;  in  1870,  fifty-nine  (59). 

The  classification  of  commitments  of  those  under 
fifteen  years  only  runs  back  a  few  years.    The  number 


DECREASE  OF  CRIME. 


437 


of  little  girls  imprisoned  the  past  few  years  is  as 
follows : — 


The  imprisonment  of  males,  for  offenses  which 
boys  are  likely  to  commit,  though  not  so  encouraging 
as  with  the  girls,  shows  that  juvenile  crime  is  fairly 
under  control  in  this  city.  Thus,  "  Vagrancy'7  must 
include  many  of  the  crimes  of  hoys ;  under  this  head 
we  find  the  following  commitments  of  males : — 

1859  2,829  I  1862.  1,203  |  1865  1,350 

1860  2,708   1864  1,147  |  1870  1,140 

1871   934 

In  twelve  years  a  reduction  from  2,829  to  994,  when 
the  natural  increase  should  have  been  up  to  3,225, 

Petty  larceny  is  a  boy's  crime ;  the  record  stands 
thus  for  males 

1857  2,450  !  1860  2,575  I  1869   2,338 

1859  2,626  |  1865  2,347  |  1870   2,168 

1871  1,978 

A  decrease  in  fourteen  years  of  502,  when  the  natu- 
ral increase  should  have  brought  the  number  to  2,861. 

Of  boys  under  fifteen  imprisoned,  the  record  stands 
thus  since  the  new  classification : — 


1863 
1864, 
1865, 


403  1868 
295  1870 
275  1871 


289 
218 
213 


CRIME  CHECKED  AMONG  THE  BOYS. 


1864 


 1,965  I  1865  1,934  |  1869   

1870  1,625  |  1871  1,017 


1,873 


438    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Of  males  between  fifteen  and  twenty,  in  our  city 
prisons,  the  following  is  the  record : — 

1857  2,592  I  1860  2,207  I  1868   2,927 

1859  2,636  |  1861  2,408  |  1870   2,876 

1871  .2,936 

It  often  happens  that  youthful  criminals  are  ar- 
rested who  are  not  imprisoned.  The  reports  of  the 
Board  of  Police  will  give  us  other  indications  that, 
even  here,  juvenile  crime  has  at  length  been  dimin- 
ished in  its  sources. 

ARRESTS. 

The  arrests  of  pickpockets  run  thus  since  1861,  the 
limit  of  returns  accessible: — 

1861  466  I  1865  275  |  1868  348 

1862,...  300  |  1867  345  |  1869   303 

1870  .274  |  1871  .313 

In  ten  years  a  reduction  of  153  in  the  arrests  of 
pickpockets. 

In  petty  larceny  the  returns  stand  thus  in  brief: — 

1862  4,107  I  1865  5,240  I  1867   5,269 

1870  4,909  |  1871  3,912 

A  decrease  in  nine  years  of  195. 
Arrests  of  girls  alone,  under  twenty : — 

1863   3,132  |  1867  2,588  |  1870  1,993 

1871  1,820 


It  must  be  plain  from  this,  that  crime  among 


CHIME  LESSENED. 


439 


young  girls  is  decidedly  checked,  and  among  boys  is 
prevented  from  increasing  with  population. 

If  our  readers  will  refer  back  to  these  dry  but 
cheering  tables  of  statistics,  they  will  see  what  a  vast 
sum  of  human  misery  saved  is  a  reduction,  in  the  im- 
prisonment of  female  vagrants,  of  more  than  five 
thousand  in  1871,  as  compared  with  1859.  How  much 
homelessness  and  desperation  spared !  how  much 
crime  and  wretchedness  diminished  are  expressed  in 
those  simple  figures !  And,  if  we  may  reckon  an  aver- 
age of  punishment  of  two  months'  detention  to  each 
of  those  girls  and  women,  we  have  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  saved  in  one  year  to  the 
public  by  preventive  agencies  in  this  class  of  offend- 
ers alone. 

The  same  considerations,  both  of  economy  and 
humanity,  apply  to  each  of  the  results  that  appear  in 
these  tables  of  crime  and  punishment. 

No  outlay  of  money  for  public  purposes  which  any 
city  or  its  inhabitants  can  make,  repays  itself  half  so 
well  as  its  expenses  for  charities  which  prevent  crime 
among  children. 


OHAPTEE  XXXVII. 


THE  CAUSES  OF  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  WORK. 

In  reviewing  these  long-continued  efforts  for  the 
prevention  of  crime  and  the  elevation  of  the  neg- 
lected youth  of  this  metropolis,  it  may  aid  others 
engaged  in  similar  enterprises  to  note  in  summary 
the  principles  on  which  they  have  been  carried  out, 
and  which  account  for  their  marked  success. 

In  the  first  place,  as  has  been  so  often  said,  though 
pre-eminently  a  Charity,  this  Association  has  always 
sought  to  encourage  the  principle  of  Self-help  in  its 
beneficiaries,  and  has  aimed  much  more  at  promoting 
this  than  merely  relieving  suffering.  All  its  branches, 
its  Industrial  Schools,  Lodging-houses,  and  Emigra- 
tion, aim  to  make  the  children  of  the  poor  better  able 
to  take  care  of  them  selves ;  to  give  them  such  a 
training  that  they  shall  be  ashamed  of  begging,  and 
of  idle,  dependent  habits,  and  to  place  them  where 
their  associates  are  self-respecting  and  industrious. 
No  institution  of  this  Society  can  be  considered  as  a 
shelter  for  the  dependent  and  idle.  All  its  objects  of 
charity  work,  or  are  trained  to  work.  The  conse- 
quence is  that  this  effort  brings  after  it  none  of  the 


NATURAL  LAWS. 


441 


bad  fruits  of  mere  alms-giving.  The  poor  do  not  be- 
come poorer  or  less  self-reliant  under  it;  on  the  con- 
trary, they  are  continually  rising  out  of  their  con- 
dition and  making  their  own  way  in  the  world.  The 
laborer  in  this  field  does  not  feel,  as  in  so  many  other 
philanthropic  causes,  doubtful,  after  many  years  of 
labor,  whether  he  has  not  done  as  much  injury  as 
good.  He  sees  constantly  the  wonderful  effect  of 
these  efforts,  and  he  knows  that,  at  the  worst,  they 
can  only  fail  of  the  best  fruit,  but  certainly  cannot 
have  a  bad  result. 

From  the  commencement  our  aim  has  been  to  put 
these  charitable  enterprises  in  harmony  with  natural 
and  economic  laws,  assured  that  any  other  plan  of 
philanthropy  must  eventually  fail.  In  this  view  we 
have  taken  advantage  of  the  immense  demand  for 
labor  through  our  rural  districts,  which  alone  gives  a 
new  aspect  to  all  economical  problems  in  this  country. 
Through  this  demand  we  have  been  enabled  to  accom- 
plish our  best  results,  with  remarkable  economy.  We 
have  been  saved  the  vast  expense  of  Asylums,  and 
have  put  our  destitute  children  in  the  child's  natural 
place — with  a  family.  Our  Lodging-houses  also  have 
avoided  the  danger  attending  such  places  of  shelter, 
of  becoming  homes  for  vagrant  boys  and  girls.  They 
have  continually  passed  their  little  subjects  along  to 
the  country,  or  to  places  of  work,  often  forcing  them 
to  leave  the  house.    In  requiring  the  small  payments 


442    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

for  lodging  and  meals,  they  put  the  beneficiaries  in 
an  independent  position,  and  check  the  habits  and 
spirit  of  pauperism.  The  Evening  School,  the  Sav- 
ings-bank, and  the  Eeligious  Meeting  are  continually 
acting  on  these  children  to  raise  them  from  the  va- 
grant class.  The  Industrial  Schools,  in  like  manner, 
are  seminaries  of  industry  and  teachers  of  order  and 
self-help. 

All  the  agencies  of  the  Society  act  in  harmony 
with  natural  laws,  and  touch  the  deepest  springs  of 
life  and  character.  The  forces  underlying  them  are 
the  strongest  forces  of  society — Eeligion,  Education, 
Self-respect,  and  love  of  Industry;  these  are  con- 
stantly working  upon  the  thousands  of  poor  children 
under  our  charge.  Thus  founded  on  simple  and 
natural  principles,  the  Society  has  succeeded,  because 
very  earnest  men  and  women  have  labored  in  it, 
and  because  its  organization  has  been  remarkably 
complete. 

The  employes  have  entered  into  its  labors  princi- 
pally from  love  of  its  objects,  and  then  have  been 
retained  by  a  just  and  liberal  treatment  on  the  part 
of  the  Trustees,  and  by  each  being  made  responsible  for 
his  department,  and  gaining  in  the  community  some- 
thing of  the  honor  which  attends  successful  work. 

A  strict  system  of  accountability  has  been  main- 
tained, step  by  step,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest 
executive  officer.    Of  many  engaged  in  the  labors  of 


FAITHFUL  SERVICE. 


443 


this  Association,  it  can  be  truly  said,  that  no  business 
or  commercial  house  was  ever  more  faithfully  and 
earnestly  served,  than  this  charity  has  been  by  them. 
Indeed,  some  of  them  have  poured  forth  for  it  more 
vitality  and  energy  than  they  would  ever  have  done 
for  their  personal  interests.  They  have  toiled  day 
and  night,  week-days  and  Sundays,  and  have  been 
best  rewarded  by  the  fruit  they  have  beheld.  The 
aim  of  the  writer,  as  executive  officer,  has  been  to 
select  just  the  right  man  for  his  place,  and  to  make 
him  feel  that  that  is  his  profession  and  life-calling. 
Amid  many  hundreds  thus  selected,  during  twenty 
years,  he  can  recall  but  two  or  three  mistaken  choices, 
while  many  have  become  almost  identified  with  their 
labors  and  position,  and  have  accomplished  good  not 
to  be  measured.  His  principle  has  been  to  show  the 
utmost  respect  and  confidence,  but  to  hold  to  the 
strictest  accountability.  Not  a  single  employe,  so  far 
as  he  is  aware,  in  all  this  time,  during  his  service,  has 
ever  wronged  the  Society  or  betrayed  his  trust.  One 
million  of  dollars  has  passed  through  the  hands  oi 
the  officers  of  this  Association  during  this  period,  and 
it  has  been  publicly  testified*  by  the  Treasurer,  Mr. 
J.  E.  Williams,  President  of  the  Metropolitan  Bank, 
that  not  a  dollar,  to  his  knowledge,  has  ever  been 
misappropriated  or  squandered. 

*  See  testimony  before  the  Committee  on  Charities  of  the 
Senate  of  New  York,  1871. 


444    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

A  most  important  element  of  the  success  of  this 
Charity  have  been,  of  course,  the  character  and  in- 
fluence of  its  Board  of  Trustees. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  these  gentlemen  without 
seeming  to  use  the  language  of  compliment ;  but,  in 
making  known  to  other  cities  the  peculiar  organiza- 
tion which  has  been  so  successful  in  this,  it  must 
always  be  remembered  what  the  character  of  trustees 
should  be,  who  bear  upon  their  shoulders  so  impor- 
tant a  trust.  These  men  are  known  through  the  city, 
and  indeed  in  distant  parts  of  the  country,  as  show- 
ing in  their  lives  a  profound  and  conscientious  convic- 
tion of  the  responsibility  which  wealth  and  ability 
are  under  to  the  community.  They  are  the  best  rep- 
resentatives of  a  class  who  are  destined  to  give  a  new 
character  to  our  city— -men  of  broad  and  liberal  views 
on  matters  of  practical  religion,  full  of  humanity,  sens- 
ible  and  judicious,  educated  to  appreciate  culture  anc| 
art,  as  well  as  business,  with  the  true  gentleman's 
sense  of  self-respect  and  respect  for  others,  a  profound 
and  earnest  spirit  of  piety,  and  that  old  Puritan  per- 
severance  which  causes  them  not  "  to  turn  their  hand 
from  the  plow,"  however  disagreeable  the  task  before 
them  may  be.  Such  men,  when  once  morally  imbued 
with  the  needs  of  a  cause,  could  make  it  succeed 
against  any  odds. 

Two  or  three  men  of  their  position,  wealth,  and 
ability,  who  should  take  the  moral  interests  of  any 


THE  TRUSTEES. 


445 


class  of  our  population  on  their  hands,  and  be  m 
earnest  in  the  thing,  could  not  fail  to  accomplish  great 
results.  When  they  began  to  appear  in  our  Board,  I 
felt  that,  under  any  sort  of  judicious  management,  it 
was  morally  certain  we  should  perfect  a  wide  and 
"permanent  organization,  and  secure  most  encouraging 
results. 

A  great  service,  which  has  been  accomplished  by 
these  gentlemen,  has  been  in  tabulating  our  accounts, 
and  putting  them  under  a  most  thorough  system  of 
examination  and  checking,  and  in  allotting  our  vari- 
ous branches  to  each  trustee  for  inspection.  Many  of 
the  trustees,  also,  have  their  religious  meetings  at 
the  Lodging-houses,  which  they  individually  lead  and 
take  charge  of  during  the  winter.  They  are  thus 
brought  in  direct  contact  with  the  necessities  of  the 
poor  children. 

To  no  one,  however,  is  the  public  so  much  indebted 
as  to  our  treasurer,  Mr.  J.  E.  Williams. 

For  nearly  twenty  years  this  charity  has  been  the 
dearest  object  of  his  public  efforts,  the  field  of  his 
humanity  and  religion.  During  all  this  time  he  has 
managed  gratuitously  the  financial  affairs  of  the  So- 
ciety ;  begged  money  when  we  were  straitened,  and 
borrowed  it  when  temporarily  embarrassed ;  never  for 
a  moment  doubting  that,  if  the  work  were  faithfully 
done,  the  public  would  support  it.  At  the  end  of  this 
period  (1872),  having  spent  over  a  million  of  dollars, 


446    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

and  requiring  now  some  one  hundred  and  seventy -five 
thousand  dollars  per  annum  for  our  various  branches, 
we  find  ourselves  without  a  dollar  of  debt. 

THE  SECTARIAN  DANGER. 

One  rock,  which  the  manager  of  such  a  movement 
must  always  steer  clear  of,  is  the  sectarian  difficulty. 
He  lnust  ignore  sects,  and  rest  his  enterprise  on  the 
broadest  and  simplest  principles  of  morality  and 
religion.  The  animating  force  must  be  the  religious, 
especially  the  u  enthusiasm  of  humanity v  shown  in 
the  love  for  Christ,  and  for  all  who  bear  His  image. 
But  dogmatic  teachings,  and  disputations,  and  sec- 
tarian ambitions,  are  to  be  carefully  eschewed  and 
avoided  in  such  efforts  of  humanity.  The  public  must 
learn  gradually  to  associate  the  movement,  not  with 
any  particular  sect  or  church,  but  with  the  feeling  of 
humanity  and  religion — the  very  spirit  of  Christ 
Himself. 

An  essential  thing,  and  often  very  disagreeable,  to 
the  earnest  worker  in  it,  is  to  give  the  utmost  publicity 
to  all  its  operations.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that  such 
a  charity  depends  for  support  and  friends,  not  on  an 
organized  private  association,  but  on  the  whole  public. 
They  need  to  know  all  its  doings;  this  is  often  the 
only  way  of  reminding  them  of  their  duty  in  this  field. 
Moreover,  the  moneys  spent  are  public  trusts,  and  all 
that  relates  to  their  uses  should  be  publicly  known. 


CONCLUSION. 


447 


Gradually,  by  publicity,  the  general  community  come 
to  ha^e  something  of  the  same  moral  interest  in  the 
enterprise,  that  the  special  attendants  of  a  church 
have  in  its  welfare;  and  it  becomes  a  truly  public 
interest.  To  attain  this,  the  press  should  be  the  great 
agency,  as  well  as  the  pulpit,  wherever  practicable. 
Annual  reports,  designed  for  all  classes,  wherein 
there  are  figures  for  the  statistical,  facts  for  the 
doubting,  incidents  for  the  young,  and  principles 
stated  for  the  thoughtful,  should  be  scattered  far  and 
wide. 

As  the  organization  grows,  State-aid  should  be 
secured  for  a  portion  of  its  expenses,  that  a  more  per- 
manent character  may  be  given  it,  and  it  may  not 
be  suddenly  too  much  crippled  by  a  business  depres- 
sion or  disaster. 

Of  the  modes  in  which  money  should  be  raised,  I 
have  already  spoken.  In  all  these  matters,  the  general 
rule  of  wisdom  is  to  avoid  "  sensation,"  and  to  trust  to 
the  settled  and  reasonable  conviction  of  the  public, 
rather  than  to  temporary  feeling  or  excitement. 

Founded  on  such  principles,  and  guided  by  men 
of  this  character  and  ability,  and  by  those  of  similar 
purposes  who  shall  come  after  them,  there  seems  no 
good  reason  why  this  extended  Charity  should  not 
scatter  its  blessings  for  generations  to  come  through- 
out this  ever-increasing  metropolis. 


448    THE  DANGEROUS  CLASSES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

To  those  dow  serving  in  it,  no  thought  can  be 
sweeter,  when  their  "  change  of  guard v  comes^than 
that  the  humble  organization  of  humanity  and  Chris- 
tian kindness,  which,  amid  many  labors  and  sacrifices, 
they  aided  to  found,  will  spread  good- will  and  in- 
telligence and  relief  and  religious  light  to  the  chil- 
dren of  the  unfortunate  and  the  needy,  long  years 
after  even  their  names  are  forgotten  5  and  for  monu- 
ment or  record  of  their  work,  they  cannot  ask  for 
more  enduring  than  young  lives  redeemed  from  crime 
and  misery,  and  young  hearts  purified  and  ennobled 
by  Christ,  and  many  orphans'  tears  wiped  away,  and 
wounds  of  the  lonely  and  despairing  u  little  ones"  of 
the  world  healed  through  instrumentalities  which 
they  assisted  to  plant,  and  which  shall  continue  when 
they  are  long  gone 


END. 


ADDENDA. 


THE  SILENT  WORKERS. 
• 

Since  the  above  pages  were  written,  some  of  the  most  earnest 
workers  in  this  great  charity  have  been  called  hence.  The 
lapse  of  time,  too,  has  made  it  less  necessary  to  conceal  the 
names  of  those  who  have  done  so  mnch  for  the  poor.  All 
those  who  have  built  up  this  structure  of  good-will  and 
wise  charity  will  soon  be  gone  from  the  stage  of  action,  and 
it  seems  appropriate,  so  far  as  this  humble  record  can  do  it,  to 
preserve  their  names  for  those  who  shall  come  after — though 
their  silent  influence  on  heart  and  character  will  survive  for 
generations.  It  is  remarkable  how  little  can  be  known  in  each 
generation  of  those  before  who  have  done  the  most  to  make 
the  present  better  than  the  past.  The  best  workers  for  human 
good  seem  the  silent. 

It  happens  that  many  of  those  women  who  have  by  silent 
labors  and  sacrifices  constructed  this  great  organization  of 
charity,  came  from  the  historical  families  of  the  State. 

Gertrude  Livingston  had  at  least  for  a  collateral  ances- 
tor the  greatest  penal  and  legal  reformer  whom  this 
country  has  produced,  Edward  Livingston,  the  codifier 
of  the  laws  of  Louisiana,  and  the  author  or  suggester  of 
the  "  mark  system n  in  prison  treatment,  and  the  juvenile 
Reform  system  of  the  United  States.  She  took  part  as  a 
young  lady  in  our  earliest  efforts  among  the  poor  of  the  Fourth 
Ward,  visiting  in  the  worst  houses  of  that  abandoned  district, 
and  devoted  with  a  rare  consecration  to  those  efforts  of  reli- 
gion and  humanity.  Since  then,  for  twenty-five  years  she  has 
been  a  faithful  laborer  in  our  field.  At  times,  she  took  charge 
of  the  religious  meetings  in  the  "  Girls'  Lodging  House,"  and 
had  part  in  the  various  branches  of  the  work.  During  the  past 
few  years,  she  was  especially  engaged  in  the  Eighteenth  Street 
School.    She  felt  much  touched  at  the  low  physique  of  the 


450 


ADDENDA. 


tenement-house  children,  and  devised  many  means  for  provid- 
ing them  with  better  food.  She  was  assisted  in  this  by  her 
uncle,  Mr.  Robert  J.  Livingston,  one  of  the  most  generous 
helpers  of  the  poor  in  this  city,  who  has  been  a  Trustee  of  the 
Children's  Aid  Society  for  over  twenty  years. 

In  her  own  nature,  however,  the  spiritual  and  moral  were 
the  predominating  interests.  Having  passed  through  many  and 
bitter  troubles,  she  had  come  to  live  habitually  "  above  the 
world,"  and  yet  she  "  bore  the  sins  of  others."  Her  moral 
sense  was  so  acute  and  her  sympathy  so  intense,  that  she  felt 
the  wrong-doing  and  sufferings  of  others  as  if  they  were  her 
own.  The  woes  and  sins  of  the  world  weighed  upon  her.  Her 
life  was  sadder  for  all  the  evils  of  the  great  metropolis,  and 
she  had  not  bodily  strength  to  rise  up  against  the  depression. 
Yet  she  consecrated  all  to  remove  these  burdens,  and  to  aid 
both  those  near  and  far  away.  Fortunately  for  her  happiness, 
she  had  great  capacity  for  friendship  and  a  wide-reaching  intel- 
lect. Her  studies  embraced  all  directions  of  thought  relating 
to  religion^ftd  brought  her  into  relations  with  our  foremost 
American  scholars  and  thinkers.  Rev.  Dr.  Porter,  President  of 
Yale  College,  thus  speaks  of  her  in  a  private  letter : 

"  I  need  not  say  that  she  had  by  nature  a  very  discriminating 
and  active  mind,  and  that  she  had  used  her  mind  to  very  great 
advantage  by  reading  and  conversation  and  observation — and 
yet  she  betrayed  little  or  nothing  of  the  desire  to  shine  in 
conversation,  or  to  display  her  knowledge  or  her  intellectual 
power.  She  was  too  earnest,  too  noble  and  too  unselfish  for 
any  such  foibles — common  though  they  are  among  very  culti- 
vated and  otherwise  excellent  people.  She  did  not  seem  to 
value  culture  and  knowledge  as  accomplishments,  but  solely  for 
what  they  would  bring  in  rest  to  her  own  soul  and  in  strength 
to  the  souls  of  others.  She  had  a  very  keen  delight  in  intel- 
lectual activity ;  but  it  was  ennobled  and  transfigured  by  her 
warm  and  glowing  love  of  Truth.  For  truth  she  searched  as 
for  hid  treasures,  and  was  ready  to  accept  and  obey  it  as  soon 
as  it  was  made  known  to  her,  and  from  whatever  source. 

"  Her  unselfishness  was  conspicuous  in  all  her  bearing  and  in 
every  action,  but  in  it  all  she  never  swerved  in  the  least  from 
a  steadying  self-respect  which  gave  her  power,  so  that  she 


ADDENDA. 


451 


could  reprove  and  rebuke  and  command  whenever  her  duty 
required.  When  I  say  this,  I  assert  what  I  infer  rather 
than  what  I  have  seen  exemplified  in  any  very  trying  case, 
and  yet  some  very  trivial  things  will  often  indicate  much  more 
than  they  seem  to  do.v 

"She  was  deeply  and  personally  religious,  having  the  hidden 
springs  of  her  life  in  a  very  intimate  communion  with  God,  in 
earnest  and  believing  prayer  for  herself  and  for  others.  From 
one  brief  allusion  to  her  own  experiences — which  she  had  no 
sooner  uttered  than  she  asked  me  to  consider  it  sacred — I  was 
led  to  believe  that  her  inner  life  was  peculiarly  consecrated 
by  faith  in  and  the  use  of  prayers  ;  that  in  all  the  sorrows  of 
her  life  she  had  found  in  prayer  her  solace  and  strength.  She 
said  very  distinctly  to  me  that  in  the  later  years  of  her  life  she 
had  been  coming  back  more  and  more  distinctly  to  the  views 
with  which  she  began  the  Christian  life  and  the  simplest  con- 
ceptions of  Christian  truth.  From  some  two  or  three  things 
which  she  said  within  two  years  before  her  death,  I  should 
most  confidently  infer  that  she  had  looked  very  distinctly  upon 
death  as  near,  and  that  in  a  certain  sense  it  was  not  unwel- 
come. I  do  not  believe  that  she  expected  to  die  away  from 
her  friends,  but  that  she  looked  with  confidence  to  a  return 
to  the  city.  Her  last  experience  of  consciousness  preceded 
the  fatal  attack.  Everything  after  that  was  a  dream  from 
which  she  awakened  into  a  life  more  real  and  satisfying  than 
the  present  ever  can  be,  to  a  '  better  morn  than  ours.' " 

She  died  (August  24th,  1878),  as  she  had  lived,  forgetting  herself 
in  her  consideration  for  others,  and  thus  not  informing  her 
family  of  her  dangerous  condition ;  all  alone  in  a  solitary 
mountain  house,  whence,  as  she  wrote,  it  seemed  to  her  she 
"might  so  easily  go  up  to  greater  heights  any  summer  morn- 
ing ; " — and  yet  not  alone.  For  with  her  were  the  invisible  com- 
pany of  all  those  who  sympathize  with  silent  human  heroism 
and  with  the  spirit  of  utter  love,  and  memories  of  a  life  of  en- 
tire consecration  to' the  good  of  others,  even  the  poorest,  and 
thoughts  of  faithful  and  true  friends  who  can  never  forget  her 
and  her  unfailing  sympathy,  and  above  all  the  presence  of 
One  who  had  been  her  life  and  stay  through  years  of  trouble 
and  disappointment,  and  who  wes  with  her  now  in  the  "  Valley 


452 


ADDENDA. 


of  the  Shadow  of  Death."  It  would  seem  that  those  who  worked 
with  her  on  earth  for  human  welfare,  can  hardly  be  worthy  to 
work  with  her  there,  so  much  purer  and  higher  was  her  spirit 
than  is  often  granted  to  man,  and  so  absolute  was  her  consecra- 
tion to  Christ  and  the  good  of  others.  But  it  may  be  she  will 
lead  them  there,  as  her  example  and  spirit  lead  them  here. 
There  is  hojje  and  rest  in  thinking  that  she  is  where  those  pro- 
blems which  so  perplexed  her  here,  are  all  solved ;  where  evils 
shall  not  pain  and  depress  her  soul ;  where  affection  hath  no 
disappointment,  and  He  whom  her  soul  loveth  is  "  All-in- All." 

JOHN  E.  WILLIAMS. 

We  have  already  spoken  in  this  volume  (pages  86  and  445)  of  the 
remarkable  services  of  Mr.  Williams  to  this  charity.  He  was  its 
Treasurer  during  twenty-four  years,  and  untiring  supporter  and 
friend.  His  death  (September  20,  1877,)  in  what  seemed  the 
vigor  of  middle  life  though  he  was  over  70  years,  was  a  great 
shock  to  us  all  and  a  loss  never  to  be  fully  repaired  to  the  city. 
Not  many  men  have  given  to  their  private  interests  the  earnest- 
ness, energy,  thought,  and  deep  feeling  which  he  gave  to  these 
labors  of  charity.  To  his  Annual  Reports,  which  have  been 
read  with  so  much,  interest,  he  devoted  weeks  of  labor,  inspect- 
ing and  studying  closely  every  branch  of  our  work.  It  was 
touching  and  characteristic,  that  m  his  last  moments  of  con- 
sciousness, his  mind  reverted,  not  to  his  successful  and  distin- 
guished* business  career,  but  to  these  labors  of  love ;  and  he  i 
spoke  with  gratitude  of  u  the  solid  comfort "  he  had  derived 
from  his  association  with  the  Trustees  and  all  of  us  in  this  chari- 
ty, and  said  he  had  u  hoped  he  could  write  one  more  Report!" 
which  would  have  filled  out  the  twenty-five  years.  But  it  was 
not  to  be.  He  has  reported  to  higher  authority,  and  received 
nobler  gratulations  than  we  can  offer. 

In  the  meeting  of  the  Trustees,  after  his  death,  each  one,  with 
broken  voice,  spoke  of  him  and  the  loss  we  had  all  met.  One 
said  that,  while  most  men  keep  to  themselves  what  feelings  of 
philanthropy  they  may  have,  Mr.  Williams  was  different,  in 
that  he  sought  continually  to  implant  in  other  minds  his  u  en- 
thusiasm of  humanity n  ;  another  said,  that  he  never  knew  a 
man  who  seemed  so  to  embody  the  "love  of  man";  another, 


ADDENDA. 


453 


tliat  if  such  a  man  needed  a  reward,  he  must  have  felt  it  in 
"  the  likeness  of  his  life  to  that  Divine  Life,  which  we  all  seek 
to  model  our  own  after,  and  which  we  fall  so  far  behind"  ;  an- 
other spoke  of  his  almost  fierce  and  sudden  bursts  of  feeling, 
and  then  of  his  equal  quickness  and  readiness  to  forgive  and  to 
express  regret  for  his  own  hastiness. 

All  felt  what  we  who  knew  him  well  saw  so  clearly,  that  hie 
charity  and  humanity  were  the  outflow  and  expression  of  his 
love  to  God,  and  for  that  reason,  next  to  his  duties  to  his 
family,  his  labors  in  this  Society  were  the  deepest  interests  in 
his  life. 

Mr.  Williams  was  not  among  the  first  three  or  four  who  talked 
over  the  necessity  of  such  a  Society  as  ours  for  New  York,  nor 
was  he  present  at  the  first  informal  meeting ;  but  he  was  the 
first  Treasurer,  and  in  the  first  band  of  Trustees  who,  during 
1853,  laid  the  foundations  of  this  great  charity,  and  therefore 
were  its  true  u  founders."  His  experience  as  President  of  a 
Children's  Mission  in  Boston  fitted  him  for  this  work.  He  never 
gave  a  merely  perfunctory  attention  to  his  duties  as  Treasurer, 
but  looked  thoroughly  into  all  matters  of  which  he  had  charge, 
and  never  even  permitted  a  clerk  to  keep  the  Society's  accounts, 
but  performed  all  the  work  himself.  He  visited  the  Schools  and 
Lodging  Houses,  watched  the  Emigration  parties,  studied  care- 
fully the  accounts  and  reports  of  the  different  agents,  and  knew 
the  multifarious  work  of  the  Society  thoroughly.  His  especial 
interest  was  in  the  Emigration  plan,  and  for  this  he  procured 
important  assistance.  All  his  books  and  accounts  with  the  So- 
ciety were  kept  with  the  clearness  of  the  books  of  a  bank  j  and 
always  on  the  soundest  business  principles.  At  his  death  the 
Society  had  no  debt,  except  a  mortgage  obligation,  incurred  in 
building  the  Newsboys'  Lodging  House,  which  is  now  dis- 
charged. 

He  was  especially  active  in  aiding  to  secure  means  for  pur- 
chasing our  five  Lodging  Houses,  which  are  now  the  property 
of  the  Society. 

With  no  class  of  our  workers  did  he  have  such  sympathy  as 
with  the  Teachers  in  the  Industrial  Schools.  For  them  he  twice 
prepared  a  delightful  pleasure  in  an  excursion  and  country 
party  at  his  beautiful  villa  on  the  Hudson.    When  they  visited 


454 


ADDENDA. 


again  that  picturesque  house  and  lovely  scene,  to  drop  tears  of 
deep  feeling  on  his  coffin,  they  all  recalled  their  last  excursion 
on  the  glorious  June  day,  and  how  he  stood  on  the  dock,  wav- 
ing almost  sadly  his  farewell ,  while  they  sang,  as  if  with  pre- 
monition, 

"  In  the  sweet  by-and-by  ! '? 

All  felt,  too,  that  had  he  been  present  in  spirit,  no  ceremony 
would  have  been  so  sweet  to  him,  as  the  plaintive  voices  of  the 
children  of  poverty  as  they  sang  with  tears  over  his  coffin — 

11  He  is  going  down  the  valley, 
The  deep,  dark  valley  ; 
We'll  see  his  face  never  more, 
Till  we  pass  down  the  valley, 
The  dark,  death  valley, 
And  meet  him  on  the  other  shore." 

In  these  later  years,  all  of  us  have  noticed  in  our  friend  a  deeper 
and  more  earnest  interest  in  all  that  was  done  for  the  poor 
children.  It  was  more  and  more  apparent  that,  as  life  slipped 
away  from  him,  his  profoundest  feeling,  next  to  that  towards 
his  family,  was  for  humanity,  and  all  that  concerned  the  cause 
of  Christ  on  earth.  He  felt  that  he  must  soon  go  hence,  and 
then,  the  only  thing  enduring  would  be,  not  his  success,  or  fame, 
or  property,  but  the  services  of  humanity  done  in  the  love  of 
his  Master,  and  the  union  of  his  soul  through  Christ  with  God. 

Such  lives,  happily,  never  die.  They  live  in  an  eternal  in- 
fluence here,  and  in  blessed  progress  hereafter. 

It  was  his  wish  that  Mr.  George  S.  Coe,  one  of  the  leading 
bankers  of  the  city,  should  be  chosen  his  successor.  It  has 
proved  a  most  fortunate  choice.  Mr.  Coe  has  already  rendered 
this  charity  great  services,  and  from  his  high  position  in  the 
business  world,  his  devoted  spirit  of  humanity  and  genial  na- 
ture, will  doubtless  render  even  more  important  services  in  the 
future. 

Through  him  especially  some  new  Trustees  of  high  character 
and  ability  have  been  admitted  into  the  Board.  Nor  have  con- 
tributions fallen  off.  During  1879,  the  sum  of  $205,583  was  re- 
ceived by  the  Society,  making  a  total  of  $2,749,941  received  by 
it  since  its  foundation  in  1853. 


ADDENDA. 


455 


A  new  impulse  to  its  work  also  was  given  by  the  kind  act  of 
Miss  Wolfe,  in  building  a  new  Lodging  House  in  place  of  the 
Rivington  Street  House,  for  the  sum  of  $40,000,  on  the  corner  of 
Gouverneur  street  and  East  Broadway.  It  was  planned  by  Mr. 
Vaux  as  architect,  and  is  an  admirable  building  for  this  purpose 
and  a  lasting  benefaction  to  the  city. 

Among  our  Trustees,  who  have  finished  their  work,  is 
Alexander  Van  Rensselaer,  a  man  of  a  family  well  known 
in  the  history  of  this  State,  and  himself  much  beloved  for  the 
singular  amiability  and  sweetnes3  of  his  nature.  He  had  done 
much  for  our  poor  Germans  in  the  German  school,  and  for  the 
German  Sunday-night  meeting,  and  in  the  Girls'  Lodging 
House.  He  had  been  Trustee  some  twenty  years.  He  died 
May  8,  1878. 

Our  greatest  loss  occurred  February  9,  1878,  in  the  death  oi 
Theodore  Roosevelt.  On  pages  325  and  326  will  be  found  a 
sketch  of  his  labors  in  our  Eighteenth  Street  House.  He  wan 
of  that  class  of  men  of  whom  no  city  possesses  too  many — least 
of  all,  New  York.  Fortune  was  for  him  a  gift  of  God  to  be  used 
for  all.  Social  position  was  only  one  implement  to  aid  him  in 
all  kinds  of  good  causes.  Courage,  animation,  love  of  pleasure,  % 
sociality,  all  under  the  Christian  inspiration,  flowed  into  one 
channel  to  give  him  greater  influence  in  the  service  of  Christ 
and  humanity.  He  was  "  in  the  world,  yet  not  of  it."  He  was 
a  personal  friend  of  the  poor.  The  tears  still  come  to  the  eyes 
of  the  poor  and  crippled  little  Italian  children  at  the  men- 
tion of  his  name.  His  services  among  the  homeless  boys  of 
Eighteenth  street,  and  the  Italian  children  of  the  Fifth  Ward, 
will  never  be  forgotten.  No  one  has  aided  our  general  charity 
more  than  he. 

We  saw  him  but  a  few  days  before  his  death.  He  had  known 
for  a  considerable  time  that  he  could  not  probably  live ;  but  he 
concealed  this  fact  from  his  family,  and  maintained  the  same 
lovely,  manly  spirit  as  in  his  best  days.  We  were  struck  (not 
knowing  his  dying  condition)  with  the  joy  and  elation  of  his 
expression,  as  of  one  living  in  the  Unseen ;  with  his  sweetness 
to  his  daughters  and  his  deep  interest  in  our  work.  (Almost 
his  last  formal  act  was  sending  money  to  a  poor  crippled  Italian 
child  in  the  Franklin  Street  School.)    His  last  thoughts  were 


456 


ADDENDA. 


evidently  on  the  work  of  Christ  in  the  world,  and  full  of 
humanity  to  all  the  needy  and  heavy-laden. 

Time  can  never  repair  his  loss  to  the  city.  But  his  spirit  still 
inspires  and  leads  thousands  who,  like  him,  would  enjoy 
heartily  all  God  has  given  of  innocent  pleasure  in  the  world, 
and  yet  consecrate  wealth  and  health  and  time  to  the  good  of 
others  and  the  service  of  Christ.  The  following  is  a  report  of 
some  informal  remarks  made  by  the  writer  at  a  meeting  of  the 
State  Charities  Aid  Society,  February  15,  1878,  held  to  com- 
memorate the  death  of  Mr.  Roosevelt : 

"  Of  the  many  striking  qualities  of  Mr.  Eoosevelt  which 
endeared  him  to  his  friends,  that  which  impressed  me  more 
than  any  other,  was  the  combination  in  him  of  sweetness  and 
thoroughness.  It  was  very  strongly  seen  in  connection  with 
the  boys  in  the  Eighteenth  Street  Lodging  House  of  the 
Children's  Aid  Society.  His  work  there  was  not  perfunctory ; 
it  was  not  done  as  a  duty.  He  seemed  to  attract  and  win  the 
sympathies  of  every  boy  in  the  house.  He  knew  them  by  name, 
he  knew  their  histories,  and,  whenever  he  came  there,  they 
would  gather  round  him,  and  he  would  question  each  one 
as  to  what  he  was  doing,  and  give  him  advice  and  sympathy 
and  direction.  You  felt  the  moment  Mr.  Roosevelt  was  in  the 
room,  that  he  was  a  help  to  those  poor  fellows.  When  the 
news  of  sickness  came,  they  were  always  inquiring  after  him, 
and  all  through  his  illness  every  notice  in  the  papers  was  read 
by  them.  They  would  send  messages  to  the  house  to  ask  about 
him ;  some  sent  flowers  as  tokens  of  sympathy,  and  the  feeling 
shown  since  his  death  has  been  wonderfully  tender  and  deep 
among  them  all. 

"I  have  been  struck  also  by  the  feeling  for  Mr.  Roosevelt 
among  the  girls,  the  foreign  flower-sellers  and  Italian  organ- 
grinders,  who  live  in  the  western  part  of  the  city,  and  attend 
the  Franklin  Street  School.  I  remember  especially  one  little 
forlorn  lame  child  there  to  whom  he  had  given  a  pair  of 
crutches.  That  child  looked  up  to  him  as  to  some  superior 
being.  Every  morning  those  children  bought  a  Sun  or  some 
paper  that  they  thought  would  have  news  of  their  sick  friend. 
During  his  illness  they  wrote  their  little  notes  of  sympathy  to 
him,  and  on  the  day  before  he  died  he  sent  down  his.  contribu- 


ADDENDA, 


457 


tion  of  money  to  give  them  pleasure.  So  all  through  our 
Society  the  unfortunate  were  in  peculiar  relations  with  him. 
The  sweetness  and  strength  of  his  character  seemed  to  reach 
all  men.  Every  eye  at  his  death  was  full  of  tears.  You  saw, 
as  you  looked  at  those  present  at  the  funeral,  that  every  one 
had  lost  a  friend. 

"  There  was  such  an  extraordinary  thoroughness  in  him. 
Whatever  he  had  to  do  he  did  out  and  out.  If  it  were  ferreting 
out  a  suspicious  charity,  if  it  were  organizing  a  committee, 
examining  accounts,  whatever  it  was,  he  went  into  every 
detail,  sometimes  most  disagreeable  details,  with  the  utmost 
thoroughness.  I  think  this  combination  of  sweetness  and  con- 
scientious thoroughness  made  the  original  charm  of  his  char- 
acter. Undoubtedly  the  great  impelling  power  of  his  life  was  a 
sense  of  duty  stimulated,  if  not  implanted,  by  his  Christian  faith. 

"I  remember  once  saying  to  him  that  I  thought  he  ought 
to  allow  some  other  gentleman  to  take  his  place  in  the  Lodging 
House,  at  least  on  alternate  Sunday  evenings.  He  said : 
' 1  cannot ;  the  fact  is,  Mr.  Brace,  I  have  such  a  troublesome 
conscience,  I  must  be  there  every  Sunday  evening  to  really 
influence  those  boys.' 

"  I  do  not  believe  in  the  sad  sentence  of  one  journal  upon  him, 
that  such  a  life  '  has  been  a  shadow,  and  has  pursued  shadows.' 
No ;  to  me  it  seems  a  permanent  Force  in  this  city,  that  will 
work  on  generation  after  generation,  through  his  family,  through 
his  friends,  and  all  who  have  felt  it.  It  is  not  a  shadow,  here 
or  elsewhere,  but  a  light  going  on  brighter  and  brighter  until 
it  merge  into  the  perfect  day." 

THE  SUMMER  HOME.    (BATH,  L.  I.) 

One  of  the  delightful  additions  to  this  charity  in  the  past  few 
years,  has  been  the  "  Summer  Home,"  whose  idea  originated 
with  Mrs.  Stokes,  of  Staten  Island.  Here  every  summer,  near 
the  "sounding  sea,"  some  2,500  poor  children  enjoy  a  week  of 
fresh  air,  sea-bathing  and  good  country  fare.  It  has  been  one 
of  the  sweetest  and  most  enjoyable  gifts  of  the  fortunate  to  the 
unfortunate  which  this  city  has  ever  seen. 

It  is  hoped,  during  the  summer  of  1880,  that  the  Society  will 
plant  a  "  Sanitarium  for  Sick  Infants "  on  the  sea  near  Rock- 


458 


ADDENDA. 


away  Beach.  One  of  the  Trustees  who  has  done  so  much  for 
the  poor  of  New  York  will  probably  found  it. 

THE  SUMMER  HOME. 

The  following  letter,  written  and  composed  entirely  by  her- 
self, is  from  a  little  Italian  peddling-girl  in  the  Fifth  Ward 
School : 

Franklin  Street, 
New  York)  Thursday,  September  30,  1875. 

Mr.  Brace  :  Dear  Sir — I  am  very  glad  to  let  you  know  I  had 
a  very  nice  time  down  the  country.  When  I  first  got  there  I 
went  into  the  washroom,  and  I  combed  my  hair  smooth  and 
washed  my  face  and  hands  clean,  then  I  went  out  to  hear  Mrs. 
Seymour  read  the  rules.  After  Mrs.  Seymour  had  read  the  rules 
I  went  on  the  swing,  but  in  a  short  time  they  told  us  we  might 
go  in  bathing,  at  least  I  could,  because  I  could  swim.  When 
they  told  me  I  might  go  in  the  water,  I  ran  and  put  on  a  bath- 
ing-suit and  jumped  in.  I  swam  fifteen  minutes  alone ;  the 
girls  were  all  astonished  to  see  me.  We  saw  many  boats  and  Mrs. 
Seymour  told  us  they  were  the  floating  hospitals.  A  big  ship 
passed  by,  and  they  told  us  it  was  all  the  way  from  England. 

Dear  Mr.  Brace — I  thank  you  very  much,  and  the  kind  ladies 
who  sent  us  down  there.  I  had  lots  of  fun.  We  went  walkmg 
down  the  beach  with  Mrs.  Seymour.  We  rolled  on  the  gras3, 
played  tag  and  croquet  with  two  Mr.  Smiths,  who  were  very 
kind  to  us,  and  swung  us  in  the  swings.  We  were  all  very  sorry 
to  leave  the  country,  it  was  so  lovely.  I  should  like  to  live 
there;  but  we  were  all  glad  to  see  dear  Miss  Satterie  once 
more. 

Oh  !  I  do  hope  we  can  go  there  next  summer.  If  we  do  go 
down  next  year,  we  have  promised  to  be  so  very,  very,  very 
good,  to  show  our  gratitude  to  those  kind  friends  who  are  so 
good  to  remember  us.  We  would  like  to  know  their  names. 
Please  to  thank  them  in  my  name  for  such  kindness.  I  did  not 
know  they  could  spare  me  at  home,  but  my  mother  said  I  might, 
and  both  my  sisters  went  too;  and  when  mother  said  yes,  I 
jumped  for  joy,  I  was  so  glad.  I  never  was  in  the  country  but 
once  before,  for  a  day,  but  I  never  spent  a  night  in  the  country 
before  this  time.  It  eeemed  so  strange  in  the  night  to  hear  in 
the  stillness  the  soft  sound  of  the  waves  beating,  beating ;  it 


ADDENDA. 


459 


seemed  like  a  tune  being  played  all  the  time,  never  still.  Oh, 
how  I  liked  to  hear  it  just  before  I  went  to  sleep  ;  it  seemed  like 
music  sending  me  off  to  slumber.  I  love  to  think  of  it  now.  I 
shall  always  remember  it  as  long  as  I  live.  I  felt  I  must  tell 
you  how  much  I  love  it  all. 

Very  respectfully, 

Maria  Beronia. 

sanitary  results. 

In  the  sanitary  field,  the  results  of  this  work  are  remarkable. 
Among  162,148  fooys  who  have  been,  during  the  25  years,  in 
the  Newsboys'  Lodging  House,  there  has  been  no  case  of  any 
contagious,  or  "foul  air 99  disease,  not  even  ophthalmia;  only 
one  death  (from  pneumonia,  in  1858),  has  occurred,  though 
there  have  been  several  cases  of  accidents.  The  other  Boys' 
Lodging  Houses  have  been  almost  equally  fortunate ;  a  distinct 
sanitary  result  of  scrupulous  cleanliness,  ventilation  and  proper 
food.  The  only  exception  has  been  in  malarial  diseases,  during 
the  past  year,  at  the  Hiving  ton  Street  Lodging  House,  owing 
especially  to  the  erection  of  a  new,  over-crowded  tenement- 
bouse  on  the  adjoining  lots,  and  the  bad  drainage  of  these  lots. 

Since  our  summer  enterprises  have  begun,  in  the  Sick  Child- 
ren's Mission  and  the  Summer  Home,  there  has  been  a  steady 
fall  of  the  death-rate  of  children  from  diarrheal  diseases  in  the 
summer.  In  producing  this  result,  the  Board  of  Health  and 
other  Associations  have  had  a  share,  though  the  2,500  children 
refreshed  each  summer  in  the  Summer  Home,  and  the  hundreds 
relieved  by  the  Sick  Mission,  must  have  materially  affected  the 
death  rate  of  the  City. 

DEATHS  OF  CHILDREN  UNDER  5  FROM  DIARRHCEAL  DISEASES. 

1871   3,250   1875   3,227 

1872  4,480    1876    3,352 

1873   3,634    1877   3,187 

1874.   3,227    1878   2,598 

1879  (9  months)  2,358 

It  will  be  observed,  that  in  six  years,  over  1,000  lives 
annually  have  been  saved  under  this  disease  alone. 

The  general  death-rate  has  been  reduced  from  33.76  in  1872  to 
24.93  per  1,000  in  1879. 


ADDENDA. 


ECONOMY  OF  WORK. 

Owing  to  careful  organization,  the  work,  though  on  so  large 
a  scale,  shows  an  economy  of  management  which  has  never  been 
surpassed  in  such  enterprises. 

The  total  annual  expense  of  our  21  Industrial  Schools  in 
1879,  for  salaries,  rents,  food,  clothing,  hooks,  etc.,  etc.,  was 
$71,540.15,  which  sum,  divided  by  3,632,  the  average  number 
in  daily  attendance,  would  make  $19,69  the  annual  cost  for 
each  child.  The  cost  in  1878  for  each  child  in  our  Public  Schools, 
not  including  rents,  was  $38.41  ;  this  expense,  of  course,  not 
including  food  or  clothing. 

In  our  "  Lodging  Houses,"  13,652  hoys  and  girls  were  fed, 
sheltered,  and  taught,  during  the  past  year,  at  a  total  expense 
°f  $47, 143. 66.  Deducting  the  receipts,  together  with  the  cost 
of  construction,  $26,916.17,  the  net  cost  was  $20,227.49; 
dividing  this  by  the  nightly  average  attendance,  we  have  the 
average  cost  to  the  public,  of  each  child,  for  the  year,  $42.67. 
The  average  cost,  per  year,  of  each  prisoner  in  the  Tombs,  is 
$107.75  ;  an(l  the  Roman  Catholic  Protectory  draws  from  the 
City  Treasury  over  $100  annually,  for  each  of  its  inmates. 

The  total  number  placed  out  by  the  Society,  mainly  in 
Western  homes,  during  last  year,  was  3,713:  the  total  cost 
for  railroad  fares,  clothing,  food,  salaries,  etc.,  etc.,  was 
$29,679.48 ;  the  average  cost  to  the  public,  accordingly,  for 
each  person  was  $8.04.  Yet  any  one  of  these  children  placed 
in  an  Asylum  or  Poor  House,  for  a  year,  would  have  cost  un- 
doubtedly nearly  $140. 

These  statistics  need  no  comment.  Again,  the  number  who 
enjoyed  the  benefit  of  our  "  Summer  Home"  was  2,912  ;  the 
total  expense,  deducting  cost  of  construction,  $1,000. 28,  and 
rent  of  1878,  $350.00,  was  $5,036.90,  making  the  average 
cost  for  each  child  $1.89.    Surely  this  is  economical  charity ! 


JACK  AND  ME. 
(Anonymous.) 

Here  y'are,  ?  Black  your  boots,  boss  ? 

Do  it  for  just  five  cents  ; 
Shine  'em  up  in  a  minute, 

That  is  ?f  nothin'  prevents. 


ADDENDA. 


Set  your  foot  right  on  there,  sir. 

The  mornin's  kinder  cold — 
Sorter  rough  on  a  feller 

When  his  coat's  a  gittin'  old. 

Well,  yes — call  it  a  coat,  sir ; 

Though  'taint  much  more'n  a  tear 
Can't  git  myself  another — 

Ain't  got  the  stamps  to  spare. 

Make  as  much  as  most  on  'em — 
That's  so  ;  but  then  yer  see, 

They've  only  got  one  to  do  for; 
There's  two  on  us,  Jack  and  me. 

Him  ?    Why— that  little  feller, 
With  a  double  up  sorter  back, 

Sittin'  there  on  the  gratin' 
Sunnin'  himself — that's  Jack. 

Used  to  be  round  sellin'  papers, 
The  cars  there  was  his  lay, 

But  he  got  shoved  off  the  platform, 
Under  the  wheels  one  day. 

Yes,  the  conductor  did  it — 
Gave  him  a  reg'lar  throw — 

He  didn't  care  if  he  killed  him, 
Some  on  'em  is  just  so. 

He's  never  been  all  right  since,  sir, 

Sorter  quiet  and  queer — 
Him  and  me  go  together, 

He's  what  they  call  cashier. 

High  old  style  for  a  bootblack — 
Made  all  the  fellers  laugh — 

Jack  and  me  had  to  take  it, 
But  we  don't  mind  no  chaff. 

Trouble  ?    I  guess  not  much,  sir, 
Sometimes  when  biz  gets  slack, 

I  don't  know  how  I'd  stand  it 
If  'twasn't  for  little  Jack. 

Why,  boss,  you  ought  to  hear  him, 

He  says  we  needn't  care 
How  rough  luck  is  down  here,  sir, 

If  some  day  we  git  up  there. 


462 


ADDENDA. 


All  done  now — how's  that,  sir  ? 

Shine  like  a  pair  of  lamps  ; 
Morn  in' — give  it  to  Jack,  sir, 

He  looks  out  for  the  stamps. 

THE  "PLACING  OUT,?  SYSTEM. 

At  the  National  Prison  Congress,  which  met  in  1876  in  New 
York,  two  or  three  of  the  Western  members  took  occasion  to  as- 
sert that  the  homeless  children  sent  out  to  the  West  by  the 
Children's  Aid  Society  of  New  York,  were  "  crowding  the 
Western  prisons  and  reformatories ; "  one  lady  being  under- 
stood to  say  that  "  their  prisons  and  houses  of  refuge  were  half 
full  of  these  children." 

The  only  reply  we  could  make  at  the  time  was,  that  this  did 
not  correspond  with  our  information,  and  that  the  number  of 
"failures"  under  our  plan  was  less,  proportionally,  than  under 
any  other  for  juvenile  reform;  yet,  with  so  many  thousands 
sent,  this  proportion  might  seem  formidable. 

Immediately  on  the  adjournment  of  the  Congress,  we  des- 
patched our  experienced  Western  agent,  Mr.  C.  R.  Fry,  to 
thoroughly  examine  the  prisons,  houses  of  refuge,  and  reforma- 
tories of  the  three  States  especially  indicated — Michigan,  Illi- 
nois, and  Indiana.  His  interesting  and  detailed  report  is  ap- 
pended. From  this  it  appears  that  in  Michigan  and  Illinois, 
where  we  had  sent  over  10,000  children,  not  a  single  boy  or  girl 
from  this  Society  could  be  found  in  all  their  prisons  and  re- 
formatories. 

In  Indiana,  where  we  had  sent  some  6,000,  one  girl  was  found 
in  a  reformatory,  and  four  boys,  the  latter  only  sentenced  for 
vagrancy,  and  not  considered  very  bad  boys. 

These  remarkable  results  were  a  genuine  triumph  and  great 
encouragement.  Several  of  the  Western  members  have  since 
written  that  their  objections  were  offered  on  mistaken  informa- 
tion, and  now  express  their  entire  approval  of  our  plan. 

REPORT  ON  CHILDREN  IN  WESTERN  PRISONS. 

Chicago,  III.,  July  15,  1876. 
It  affords  me  great  pleasure  to  make  known  to  you  the  result 
of  my  investigations  at  the  State  Prisons  and  Reformatories  of 


ADDENDA. 


463 


Illinois,  Indiana,  and  Michigan.  The  facts  show  plainly  that 
the  statements  made  at  the  late  Prison  Congress,  held  in  New 
York  city,  were  greatly  exaggerated,  and  certainly  do  not  apply 
to  the  work  of  our  Society.  The  little  homeless  children  we 
have  been  sending  out  for  the  past  twenty  years  cannot  be  found 
in  the  Prisons  and  Reformatories  of  the  West.  In  visiting  the 
Illinois  State  Penitentiary,  located  at  Joliet,  among  1,600  pris- 
oners I  found  not  one  to  represent  the  Children's  Aid  Society. 
Mr.  R.  W.  McClanghry,  the  warden,  said  that  none  of  our 
children  had  ever  come  under  his  notice.  I  went  through  the 
entire  prison,  and  my  investigation  was  as  thorough  as  it  is 
possible  to  make  it,  where  the  rules  forbid  conversation  with 
the  prisoners.  I  next  visited  the  Illinois  State  Reform  School, 
located  at  Pontiac.  This  institution  is  intended  mainly  for 
criminals  under  twenty-one  years  of  age,  who  are  imprisoned 
for  vagrancy,  theft,  and  such  petty  offenses.  One  would  very 
naturally  expect  to  find  in  such  a  place  some  of  the  very  large 
number  of  boys  we  have  sent  to  this  State.  For  this  reason  I 
determined  to  make  my  investigation  very  thorough.  Dr. 
Schouller  was  absent,  but  his  assistant,  who  is  wonderfully 
familiar  with  the  history  of  almost  all  the  boys,  gave  me  his 
very  valuable  help  in  examining  the  books.  The  record  con- 
tains the  name  and  a  short  history  of  each  boy  who  has  passed 
through  the  institution.  These  we  carefully  noted,  and  wher- 
ever there  was  a  possibility  of  any  of  the  present  inmates  hav- 
ing been  sent  by  our  Society,  they  were  sent  for  and  questioned. 
There  were  no  facts  brought  to  light  to  lead  any  one  to  suppose 
that  there  was  or  ever  had  been  a  boy  in  the  institution  who 
was  sent  to  the  West  by  the  New  York  Children's  Aid  Society. 
The  Chicago  House  of  Correction  (Mr.  Felton,  superintendent) 
came  next  in  order.  I  found  that  I  should  be  unable  to  gather 
all  the  facts  desired  from  the  books,  and  so  obtained  permission 
to  go  through  the  institution  and  converse  with  the  inmates.  I 
found  not  one  from  the  Children's  Aid  Society.  I  also  called 
upon  Mr.  Robert  Turner,  the  former  superintendent  of  the 
Chicago  House  of  Refuge,  which,  a  short  time  since,  was 
abandoned  or  merged  into  the  Pontiac  Reform  School.  Mr. 
Turner  informed  me  that,  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  and  be- 
lief, he  had  never  had  one  of  our  boys  in  his  institution.  This 
completed  my  investigations  in  Illinois. 


464 


ADDENDA. 


From  there  I  went  to  the  North  Indiana  State  Penitentiary, 
located  at  Michigan  City.  There  are  550  prisoners  in  this  peni- 
tentiary  at  the  present  time.  A  very  small  nnmber  nnder 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  none  under  seventeen.  Mr.  Main, 
the  warden,  informed  me  that  there  had  never,  to  his  knowl- 
edge, been  one  of  our  boys  confined  there.  I  also  visited 
the  South  Indiana  Stare  Penitentiary,  located  at  Jelfersonville, 
with  the  same  result.  Col.  Howard,  the  warden,  was  absent, 
but  his  deputy  says,  "  There  are  no  persons  sent  here  under 
eighteen  years  of  age.  Each  man  is  very  carefully  questioned 
when  he  enters,  and  I  think  if  he  had  been  sent  West  by  your 
Society,  the  fact  would  come  out  during  the  questioning.  I  do 
not  believe  we  have  ever  had  one  of  your  boys  here,  as  a  very 
small  number  of  our  prisoners  are  from  New  York."  I  went 
through  the  different  wards  of  this  penitentiary,  but  obtained 
no  further  information.  I  then  gave  my  attention  to  the  insti- 
tutions of  Richmond,  Indiana.  I  first  called  upon  Mrs.  S.  A.  I. 
Davis,  President  of  the  Board  of  Managers  of  the  Home  for  the 
Friendless  and  Woman's  Prison.  Mrs.  Davis  stated  that  she 
knew  personally  every  one  who  had  been  in  the  institution 
during  the  eight  years  of  its  existence,  and  there  certainly  has 
not  been  more  than  eight  persons  from  New  York  during  the 
entire  time.  She  does  not  believe  one  of  that  number  sent  by 
our  Society.  I  visited  the  institution,  which  seems  to  be  a  tem- 
porary home  for  women  and  children,  with  a  prison  connected. 
There  were  but  two  prisoners  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  and  per- 
haps a  dozen  inmates  in  the  institution.  I  next  visited  the 
Orphan  Asylum  at  Richmond,  presided  over  by  Miss  Smith.  I 
found  eleven  little  children  there;  all  born  of  parents  living  in 
the  immediate  vicinity.  Miss  Smith  has  had  charge  of  the  insti- 
tution seven  years,  and  has  only  had  one  child  from  New  York 
during  that  time.    That  one  was  not  sent  by  our  Society. 

From  Richmond  I  went  to  Indianapolis,  and  there  visited  the 
Home  for  Friendless  Women,  Miss  Mary  E.  Brower,  superin- 
tendent. This  is  quite  a  large  institution,  and  has  a  Woman's 
Prison  connected  with  it.  Miss  Brower  says  :  u  I  have  had  but 
few  New  York  children,  and  never  one  I  could  say  came  from  the 
New  York  Children's  Aid  Society."  A  girl  named  Tessie  Ellis 
came  to  the  institution  about  ten  years  ago,  who  stated  that 
she  was  sent  West  by  a  New  York  Society,  but  she  did  not 


ADDENDA. 


465 


know  what  Society.  I  also  visited  the  Reformatory  Institution 
for  Women  and  Girls,  a  very  large  institution  about  a  mile  from 
Indianapolis,  Mrs.  Smith,  superintendent,  In  reply  to  my 
question,  a  Have  you  ever  had  any  New  York  children  in  this 
institution  W  Mrs.  Smith  says :  "  Oh,  yes ;  we've  had  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  with  New  York  children  lff  She  was,  however, 
only  able  to  mention  the  name  of  one  girl  sent  West  by  our 
Society.  This  one  she  had  placed  in  many  homes,  but  she  in- 
variably drifted  back  to  the  institution.  From  Indianapolis  I 
went  to  Plainfield,  and  visited  the  Indiana  State  Reform  School. 
With  the  assistance  of  Mr.  James  O'Brien,  superintendent, 
and  the  bookkeeper,  I  examined  the  record  containing  the 
names,  ages,  and  a  short  history  of  eight  hundred  and  eighteen 
boys,  all  who  have  passed  through  the  institution.  I  found  the 
names  of  but  ten  boys  from  New  York.  By  comparing  this 
list  with  our  record  at  the  office,  four  of  the  number  are  found 
to  be  from  our  Society.  They  are  reported  by  the  superintend- 
ent to  be  "good  boys,"  and  were  committed  to  the  Reform 
School  only  because  they  were  "  homeless."  This  completes  the 
work  of  Indiana. 

I  next  visited  the  Michigan  State  Public  School  for  Dependent 
Children,  located  at  Coldwater,  Mr.  Lyman  P.  Alden,  superin- 
tendent. The  institution  is  intended  to  reach  a  class  of  little 
children  who  have  hitherto  been  sent  to  the  almshouses  of  the 
State,  because  of  the  inability  of  their  parents  to  support  them. 
I  found  about  150  children  there,  but  did  not  examine  the 
records,  as  Mr.  Alden  assured  me  he  was  quite  certain  he  had 
never  had  a  child  from  New  York.  From  this  place  I  went  to 
the  Michigan  State  Reform  School  at  Lansing,  M.  Frank  M. 
Howe,  superintendent.  There  are  at  present  236  boys  in  this 
institution.  Mr.  Howe  stated  that  not  one  of  the  number  was 
from  New  York,  and  that  he  has  never  known  of  one  of  our 
boys  having  been  in  the  institution  \  but  in  looking  over  the 
annual  report  for  1875,  I  found  ten  boys  whose  nativity  was 
New  York.  I  returned  to  the  institution  and  asked  for  an  ex- 
planation of  this  seeming  contradiction.  Mr.  Howe  gave  me  a 
statement  in  writing  to  the  effect  that  the  statement  in  the 
report  was  only  intended  to  show  that  the  boys  were  born  in 
New  York  State.  They  removed  to  the  West  with  their  parents, 
and  he  is  quite  certain  none  of  them  were  sent  by  any  Society. 


466 


ADDENDA. 


I  next  visited  the  Michigan  State  Penitentiary  at  Jackson, 
Gen.  Humphreys,  warden.  The  result  was  the  same  as  at  all 
other  institutions  of  a  similar  character.  Not  one  of  our  Society 
boys  imprisoned  there.  I  went  from  Jackson  to  Detroit,  visited 
the  Detroit  House  of  Correction,  and  examined  the  books.  I 
found  the  names  of  many  boys  whose  birthplace  was  New  York, 
but  there  was  nothing  to  lead  any  one  to  suppose  they  were 
ssnt  by  any  benevolent  society.  Mr.  M.  V.  Borgman,  superin- 
tendent, was  absent  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  but  his  assistant, 
Mr.  Oliver  Webster,  informed  me  that  he  had  never  known  of 
one  of  our  children  having  been  sent  there.  My  investigations 
ha  ve  been,  in  each  case,  as  thorough  as  it  is  possible  to  make 
them,  and,  I  think,  clearly  demonstrate  the  fact  that  the 
children  sent  to  the  West  by  the  New  York  Children's  Aid 
Society  do  not  fall  into  criminal  habits,  and  cannot  be  found  in 
the  penal  institutions  of  the  West. 

Respectfully  yours, 

CHAELES  E.  FEY, 
Besident  Western  Agent  New  York  Children's  Aid  Society. 

AN  INSTANCE  OF  CRIMINAL  INHERITANCE. 

A  remarkable  case  of  criminal  inheritance  was  traced  back 
during  the  year  1874,  by  the  New  York  Prison  Association,  show- 
ing the  overwhelming  importance  to  the  community  of  caring 
for  even  two  or  three  vagrant  children. 

About  one  hundred  years  ago  there  lived  on  the  borders  of 
two  or  three  forest-lakes  in  Ulster  County,  New  York,  a  little 
vagrant  girl  called  "  Margaret,"  and  four  sisters,  some  of 
whom  were  of  illegitimate  birth.  They  seem  to  have  been  in 
no  respect  different  from  hundreds  of  little  girls  in  and  around 
this  city  who  yearly  come  under  the  care  of  this  Society.  Their 
parents  were  poor  roving  people,  who  made  their  living  partly 
by  hunting  and  fishing,  and  partly  by  stealing.  They  lived, 
like  our  poor  city  children,  crowded  in  shanties,  where  old  and 
young,  male  and  female,  slept  in  the  same  rooms.  Like  our 
street-children,  they  never  went  to  school  or  attended  church. 
They  grew  up  almost  untouched  by  the  morality  and  religion 
of  the  day.  In  the  winter  they  were  aided  by  the  out-door 
reliet  of  the  authorities  or  by  kind-hearted  persons,  and  in  the 


ADDENDA. 


467 


summer  they  lived  on  game  and  on  their  plunder  from  farms 
and  barn-yards.  Probably,  as  most  people  passed  little  "  Mar- 
garet/' the  future  "  mother  of  criminals,"  they  looked  on  her, 
as  people  do  now  on  the  little  ragged  street-sweepers  they  meet 
on  our  streets,  either  with  utter  indifference  or  with  hopeless- 
ness, as  on  an  irreclaimable  vagabond,  or  with  disgust,  as  one 
with  whom  the  decent  and  virtuous  should  have  nothing  to  do. 
The  little  Margaret  grew  up  thus  to  a  wicked  womanhood. 

In  a  recent  visit  to  the  Kingston  jail,  the  able  official  of  the 
Association,  Mr.  Dugdale,  came  upon  the  following  criminals, 
all  of  whom  he  found  to  belong  to  the  same  family  :  The  oldest, 
a  man  fifty-five  years  of  age,  awaiting  trial  for  receiving  stolen 
goods ;  his  daughter,  aged  eighteen  (subsequently  arrested  as 
a  prostitute),  held  as  a  witness  against  him ;  her  uncle,  aged 
forty-two,  for  burglary  in  the  first  degree;  the  illegitimate 
daughter  of  the  latter's  wife,  aged  twelve  years,  upon  which 
child  he  had  attempted  violence,  and  who  was  awaiting  sen- 
tence for  vagrancy  ;  and  two  brothers,  aged  nineteen  and  four- 
teen, accused  of  an  assault  with  intent  to  kill,  they  having 
pushed  a  child  over  a  cliff  forty  feet  high,  and  nearly  killed  him 
by  the  fall. 

He  traced  back  the  genealogy  of  these  criminals,  and  dis- 
covered that  the  ancestor  of  them  all  was  the  little  vagrant  girl 
of  whom  we  have  spoken,  or  her  sisters. 

This  stimulated  his  efforts,  and  after  immense  labor  he  finally 
brought  to  light  the  following  striking  facts  as  to  this  unhappy 
family. 

Seven  hundred  and  nine  (709)  descendants  of  Margaret  and 
her  sisters  are  accurately  tabulated,  whose  names  are  mainly 
taken  from  public  records.  Of  these  91  are  known  to  be  ille- 
gitimate, and  368  legitimate,  leaving  250  unknown  as  to  birth. 
One  hundred  and  twenty -eight  (128)  are  known  to  be  prostitutes, 
18  kept  houses  of  bad  repute,  and  67  were  diseased,  and  there- 
fore cared  for  by  the  public.  Only  22  ever  acquired  property, 
and  eight  of  these  lost  what  they  had  gained.  One  hundred 
and  forty-two  ( 1 42)  received  out-door  relief  during  an  aggre- 
gate number  of  734  years  ;  64  were  in  the  alms-house  of  the 
county,  and  spent  there  an  aggregate  number  of  96  years; 
76  were  publicly  recorded  as  criminals,  having  committed  115 
offenses,  and  been  116  years  in  jails  and  prisons. 


468 


ADDENDA. 


The  crimes  of  the  females  were  licentiousness,  and  those  of 
the  males  violence  and  theft.  But  the  record  we  have  quoted  is 
merely  their  public  history  of  criminality,  which  is  necessarily 
very  imperfect.  Great  numbers  of  the  offenses  of  this  wretched 
family  were  never  entered  on  any  court  records,  and  hundreds 
were  never  even  brought  to  trial.  It  is  well  knowu  that  this 
young  "mother  of  criminals"  and  her  sisters  have  poured  a 
stream  of  disease,  licentiousness,  insanity,  idiocy,  pauperism,  and 
crime  over  the  county  now  for  a  hundred  years.  This  fearful 
current  has  not  yet  ceased  to  flow,  as  some  of  the  descendants 
in  the  sixth  generation  survive  in  our  own  House  of  Refuge. 

Fifty  per  cent,  of  all  direct  female  descendants  of  Margaret 
became  prostitutes,  and  of  the  whole  stock,  from  the  age  of 
twelve  upward,  fifty  per  cent,  are  found  to  be  of  disreputable 
character.  Murder  or  attempts  to  murder  appear  among  the 
males  in  every  generation  except  the  sixth,  where  the  children 
are  not  older  than  seven  years.  Forgery  is  found  but  once  on 
their  records.    Theft  appears  everywhere. 

Another  appalling  feature  in  this  history  of  criminal  inherit- 
ance is  the  disease  spread  through  the  county  by  these  vagrant 
children,  and  the  consequent  lunacy,  idiocy,  epilepsy,  and  final 
weakness  of  body  and  mind  which  belongs  to  inherited  pau- 
perism, transmitted  to  so  many  human  beings. 

Mr.  Dugdale  has  traced  still  further  the  line,  and  makes  it 
probable  that  the  aggregate  of  the  descendants  of  these  vagrant 
children  reaches  the  large  amount  of  1,200  persons,  living  and 
dead. 

The  cost  of  their  alms-house  relief  he  estimates  at  $15,000, 
and  their  out-door  relief  at  $32,250,  to  Ulster  County ;  the 
maintenance  of  the  prisoners  of  this  family,  at  $100  per  annum, 
as  $14,000  ;  the  cost  of  arrest  and  trial,  at  $100  for  each  case,  as 
$25,000 ;  the  amount  of  property  stolen  and  destroyed  by  them, 
as  $15,000,  and  so  on  in  various  items,  until  he  reaches  the 
sum  of  $1,023,600,  as  the  cost  to  Ulster  County  and  the  State  of 
New  York  for  neglecting  one  vagrant  child  and  her  miserable 
little  sisters.* 

*  This  most  important  study  in  criminal  heredity  has  been  made  by 
Dr.  E.  Harris  and  Mr.  R.  L.  Dugdale,  and  published  in  the  Thirteenth 
Annual  Report  of  the  New  York  Prison  Association.  Nothing  more  im- 
portant in  the  facts  of  criminal  science  has  ever  been  brought  to  light. 


